


Rise of the Decepticons - Episode 6: The Journey into Vector Sigma Part 1

by CrystineDecepticon



Series: Rise of the Decepticons [7]
Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One), The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Action/Adventure, Autobot cadets, Canon Divergence, Drama, Gen, Heroic Decepticons, Key to Vector Sigma, Minor Character Death, Pre-Optimus Optronix, Retelling, Sci-Fi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:15:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24941422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystineDecepticon/pseuds/CrystineDecepticon
Summary: Heroic Decepticons AU. Episode 6 in series:Rise of the Decepticons, part 1 of 3. When the Key to Vector Sigma is stolen by Thunderwing, the Decepticons set out on a mission to find him. Introducing Thunderwing... and Nacelle!
Series: Rise of the Decepticons [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1792567
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

The rowdy and disorderly class of Autobot cadets who attended the prestigious War Academy in central Iacon did not make Alpha Trion’s task any easier; yet, despite the distractions and constant interruptions from his charges the elder continued to guide them on an educational tour of Cybertron’s Military Intelligence Museum in Iacon, situated not far from the War Academy, with a rare form of unsurmountable resilience and infinite patience. He had been asked by the Academy’s board of directors to instruct the cadets in Cybertronian military history, and he had accepted the invitation with great enthusiasm.

“Over here, this rather odd-looking archaeological discovery is thought to be a crude type of data recording device, purportedly used for the purposes of espionage.” Alpha Trion extended an arm towards what appeared to be a silicon disk, mounted and protected inside a transparent display. “And this contraption right over here–”

“Hey, that looks like something that was discovered loose inside Huffer’s cranial casing!” Sprocket proclaimed haughtily, eliciting muffled chuckling at the expense of their mini-bot class mate. Sprocket was a grey and orange Autobot whose temper was as fierce as his tough Cybertronian jet alt mode.

“If they opened up your cranial casing, guess what they’d find? That’s right - _absolutely nothing_!” the purple and orange mini truck retorted in his small, whiny voice, spreading his arms out in emphasis whilst thoroughly enjoying his own witty comeback.

Before Alpha Trion could even hope to pull his class in line and back on track, Powerflash, the mostly yellow and white cadet who also sported a fighter jet alt mode, crossed his arms in exasperation. “I really don’t see how learning about these old relics is going to help us become Autobot warriors,” he stated succinctly, directing his critique to their instructor.

“Why don’t you just back off, bit-for-brains, and let Alpha Trion talk?” Hot Rod retorted, not unexpectedly, brushing past Sureshot and Blaster to stand face-to-face with Powerflash. “I want to learn more about these artefacts.”

Sureshot and Powerflash simultaneously shoved him roughly backwards. “Yeah, like slag you do,” Sureshot retorted, willing and ready for a challenge.

Hot Rod stood his ground and shoved them both right back, accidentally pushing Huffer aside in the process and much to the irritation of his friends Gears and Brawn, who managed to catch hold of him before he stumbled backwards into one of the museum displays.

“Hey, watch it!” Huffer whined, scrunching up his face in annoyance.

During this minor scuffle, which was nothing more than yet another vie for superiority among the more outspoken Autobot cadets, Alpha Trion hesitated and then sighed to himself, all but resigned to the boisterousness of his charges. He was startled out of his thoughts when Optronix moved to stand by his side; the strongly built cadet had refused to join his friends in their antics.

“I must apologize for my class mates, Alpha Trion. You should not have to put up with their inappropriate behaviour and disrespect,” he said to his guardian in confidence.

Alpha Trion met Optronix’s concerned gaze for a brief instant, before chuckling good-naturedly at the cadet’s display of concern. “Eh, do not be too disheartened, Optronix – they mean no harm by it.” When Optronix gave him a look of consternation, Alpha Trion continued in his typically affable manner. “Oh, I was a cadet too once, you know, believe it or not. I may be an older model, but that doesn’t mean I’m an old fool.”

“I meant no offence–” Optronix started, but then his guardian clapped him on the back in reassurance, smiling at him affectionately.

“Forget it, Optronix. Do not be overly concerned for my sake. Now, here’s something I’d like to show you all, that I’ve no doubt you’ll find quite intriguing, hm? Please, if you would all follow me,” he said in a jovial tone, and with that Alpha Trion motioned for his group to continue on to the next artefact display. He was met with the murmurings and sighs of reluctant compliance, but then the cadets began to follow their instructor over to an out-of-the-way section towards the rear of the museum.

Alpha Trion stopped to look at his perplexed students, then pressed a button on a small pad set into the wall behind him, followed by an access code. Two inconspicuous panels slowly retracted to reveal a highly secured, secret recess that housed an odd-looking artefact, and the group finally quietened down to gaze curiously upon the polished object inside.

“What _is_ that, Alpha Trion?” Hot Rod whispered in awe, pushing his way towards the front of the group and ignoring a contemptuous look from Powerflash.

The magenta, white and violet-colored elder smiled and nodded in satisfaction, folding his arms across his chest as he glanced at the intriguing object. The small, flat device seemed to glow with a soft, golden light. It resembled a key of some sort. “Ah… now this, _this_ is one of our most prized artefacts. Do any of you here know what it is, hm?” he challenged, glancing briefly at each of them; however, with the exception of Optronix all he got in return were blank stares.

The larger cadet’s voice cut through the confusion of his fellow class mates. “Could that be the fabled Key to Vector Sigma, Alpha Trion?” Optronix said.

His guardian’s face lit up with glee. “Ah ha! You are most certainly correct, Optronix. This is, indeed, the Key to Vector Sigma!”

“The key to _what_?” Hot Rod stared at his friend Optronix in confusion, who simply gave him a small shrug in return.

“What’s a Factor Sigma?” Blaster asked, intrigued, “and what’s it supposed to do?”

Alpha Trion waited for the din of voices to quieten down before he answered their questions. “Why, Vector Sigma is the ancient and incredibly powerful super computer, said to exist somewhere in the very heart of Cybertron itself. Legend tells us that Vector Sigma has the power to act out the will of Primus, grant new Cybertronian life, and even open up a gateway to other universes,” he explained happily. “This key, which is the only one of its kind still in existence today, is said to be able to connect to the energy of Vector Sigma itself, and command it.”

There was a mixed reaction among the cadets as they each grappled with the existence of a legendary super computer and its key.

“Whoa, that’s incredible,” said Tailgate, whose voice was very quickly cut off by his much louder class mates.

“Come on, that can’t be real,” Sprocket said in disbelief. “Why have we never heard of it before?”

“Heh, it’s probably a fake. Legends like that are mostly make believe, anyway – you’d be a fool to take it seriously. Just like the legend of Primus,” said Whirl, the Autobot cadet with a single optic. His transformation mode was that of a blue helicopter.

“Hey, Primus isn’t a legend, you numb-skull!” Hot Rod said, coming quickly to Primus’ defence as he spun to face his class mate.

“Oh? I suppose you’ve met him personally, then?” Whirl countered.

Optronix placed a steadying hand on his friend Hot Rod’s shoulder before addressing both cadets directly. “Please, both of you, let Alpha Trion continue with his lesson. You can debate your spiritual beliefs all you want _later_ , outside of class.” His assertiveness was quick to dispel any potential skirmishes among his class mates, but in particular between Hot Rod and Whirl, who often got into verbal disagreements.

“Is Vector Sigma real, sir?” Hot Rod asked, ignoring Whirl’s burning stare and refocusing his attention back towards the key.

“Ah, well, I cannot say for sure. Perhaps it still exists… or, perhaps, it is nothing more than a memory of what it once was. Either way, this key is our only surviving reminder that perhaps, at the very least, the _legend_ of Vector Sigma is real.” And with that, Alpha Trion closed the panels to the secret compartment and moved on to the next display.

* * *

Situated directly over Cybertron’s equatorial line was the idyllic Stanix City, an independently functioning capital that was named after its region. For eons it had been home to one of the last remaining, remnant populations of Cybertronians that were neither Autobot not Destron ruled, for two main reasons. The first had to do with its early history, one in which its citizens had distanced themselves from any involvement in factional wars and hence the rest of society at large. They were made up of mostly first-generation Destrons, as well as a few Autobots, who had long ago collectively declared themselves neutral and unaffiliated – that is, they insisted that they belonged to no particular faction, despite their racial origins. This had allowed the sizeable community to be overlooked and largely ignored by the Destron warlords of those earlier times.

The second reason involved the city's geographical and functional uniqueness, which meant that it had been able to exist independently and in relative isolation for a very long time. Its architecturally unique buildings and energy-producing structures were housed inside, and protected by, a large transparent dome that covered the upper half of the entire metropolis, while the lower half of the capital descended into several dark and gloomy levels below ground, all but hidden from the minds and optics of most of the surface dwellers. These underground levels encompassed a total area far greater than the above-ground city, extending out to almost the size of the entire Stanix region, even as far as the two other main cities of Yuss and Fort Scyk.

These lower sections, though largely uninhabitable, served a vital role in ensuring that the surface city remained clean and free of the contaminants that were constantly produced by the surface manufacturing and processing plants as well as by day-to-day living. In essence, these lower depths were used for waste purification and recycling for the entire city, made possible because of the naturally occurring, highly corrosive acids that existed in abundance throughout the hollow channels and burrows that extended for astro-miles beneath Stanix and down towards Cybertron’s core. The acidic compounds were collected and used to very quickly and efficiently reduce waste down to its most basic elements which could then be reused, including all scrap metal, and even the frames of mechs who had ceased functioning. Largely automated and operating with minimal input, the surface inhabitants only visited the lower levels when necessary to ensure everything was running smoothly and to collect the raw materials that had been extracted from the waste purification and recycling processes.

Unbeknownst to even the majority of the citizens of Stanix City, the underground was home to a mech whose name and even existence had remained hidden for many thousands of vorns. Whilst Mordron had ignored the hazards of the toxic waste that pervaded the natural system of tunnels, it was his continual exposure to the acids that had caused his physical frame to slowly degenerate and contort, bit by bit, into the deformed creature that he had eventually become. As a result, he rarely ventured out into the open and never during the day.

Mordron’s grotesque physical appearance and the immeasurable amount of time he’d spent in the tunnels had also done nothing for his mental state, which had deteriorated into a depravity and madness that could rival Lord Straxus’. Or, perhaps his distorted ambitions, bordering on the macabre, were a result of his advanced age, for Mordron was indeed one of the few original Transformers, since the creation of Cybertron itself, who still lived. But whatever virtuous qualities he had possessed in his prime, if any, had all but disappeared – leached away just as the toxic waste dump of his home had slowly but surely moulded his physical form into a contorted image of his former self.

Perhaps it was for his uniqueness, for the inexhaustible wealth of knowledge that he still retained, knowledge that could only be possessed by a being who had lived for as long as he had, that those few who knew him continued to endure him, often turning a deaf audio receptor and a blind optic to his obviously deteriorating mental condition. But it was one warrior, in particular, who had been deemed worthy enough to receive his ultimate reward.

Ever since he’d been recruited by Mordron from Stanix City when he was still just a new creation, Thunderwing had eventually earned a place as his most trusted student; he had possessed all the ideal attributes of a fine warrior even then, traits that were necessary in order for Mordron to have been able to shape him into the greatest Destron leader the world would ever see, always loyal to his Master and forged in his image.

Thunderwing, more than all of Mordron’s other students combined, had not only been able to overcome all the gruelling tests and challenges, but he had surpassed all expectations and so, after many long vorns of service and difficult training under his Master’s instruction, he had developed into the ultimate elite warrior. Indeed, he had personally been selected for a special purpose, and as the lessons he’d received had gotten more and more advanced, Mordron had imparted to him all the ancient knowledge and secrets for safekeeping, so that when the day of purging came – when Cybertron would be renewed and re-emerge as a brand new world, pristine and untouched by any form of corruption – he would be ready.


	2. Chapter 2

After the day’s lessons, Hot Rod entered the Iacon Command Center via its main entrance and followed the hallway on the left all the way to the end, then stepped through the double doors of the Maintenance and Repair Bay as they automatically retracted to let him in. Stopping momentarily, he scanned the room for the mech he was after and then, finding him in the back of the room precariously juggling a stack of boxes piled high in his arms he rushed over, grabbing the pile before it came crashing to the floor.

“Let me help you with those,” Hot Rod offered graciously, grabbing the stack from the white and red medic. “Where do you want them?”

The Autobot officer kept an optic on the cadet to make sure he had a secure grip on his latest delivery of brand new servo joints and motors, before pointing up towards an empty spot on the back shelf. “Right there will do just fine. I’ve been waiting several months for those things to finally show up after I ordered them in.” Once Hot Rod had neatly stacked the last one on the shelf, the medic nodded in gratitude. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

“Hey, it’s no problem,” Hot Rod replied casually, looking around the med bay curiously as if he were searching for something.

The Autobot paused as he looked over the cadet. “Wait just an astro-minute… you’re not stationed around here, are you?”

“What? Uh, no – actually, I was–”

“What are you doing here, then? Eh – don’t tell me – you’re one of those cadets from over at the Academy, aren’t you? Hm, must be it. I’ve seen you around here before,” the medical officer stated curiously, crossing his arms.

Hot Rod straightened and offered him a military salute. “Hot Rod at your service, sir,” he said and grinned.

“Hot Rod, eh?” The other nodded, then turned and began to walk towards the front of the med bay. “You can forget about the ‘sir’ – just call me Ratchet. I run this place when Beta Trion’s not here. Which, as of late, is most of the time. Now, remind me why you were here last?”

The red and orange cadet quickly followed after him. “Well, I was just wondering about Magnus. I came to see how he’s doing, sir – I mean, uh – Ratchet.”

“Magnus?” Ratchet repeated uncertainly.

“He was almost killed by Straxus during the zombie army invasion. You said you could build him a new body–”

“Oh, yes, that’s right! Now I remember.” Ratchet clicked his fingers in a moment of elucidation and motioned for the cadet to follow him into an adjoining room that was restricted access. “I’m almost finished. Some extra parts I’ve ordered in were delayed because of the recent energy scare.” Ratchet opened the secure door and then sealed it again once he’d allowed Hot Rod inside the room, turning on the overhead lights. At once, Hot Rod’s optics scanned over the row of empty berths in the center of the room and then towards the back, until he paused at one of the benches; there, laid out on the table top, was a mostly-built frame.

Hot Rod turned to Ratchet with excited expectation. “Is that…” he began, trailing off as he indicated towards the new body with a thumb.

Ratchet smiled proudly. “Sure is.” He motioned for Hot Rod to move towards it. “Well, go on. I don’t have all day. I’ve got a meeting to attend in less than ten minutes – Sentinel will blow a gasket if I don’t show up.” However, Hot Rod had already rushed to the back of the room and was staring in awe at Magnus’ new frame even before Ratchet had finished speaking. “So, what do you think?”

“Well, he looks just like Magnus, only different… if you know what I mean?” Hot Rod straightened, turned to the medic with all the typical enthusiasm and eagerness of a cadet. “How soon can you bring him back online?”

Ratchet smirked good-naturedly. “Slow down, cadet. I’ve still got to install his transformation circuits, and then align them to his primary motor relays. I’m almost done – but give me another couple days, just to be on the safe side.”

Hot Rod stared back down at the brand new frame for a few moments longer. It was true that Magnus’ body looked very similar to the one he’d had; this new one was slightly larger and bulkier, though it sported his usual color scheme of mostly blue and white, with a red torso. “You’ve done a wonderful job on Magnus,” he said with the utmost sincerity and respect, before turning away to follow Ratchet back out of the room. “I can’t _wait_ for him to come back on-line,” he said, deciding to keep the good news to himself for now so that he could surprise Optronix and Blaster.

* * *

Ever since the energy crisis had come to an end several months ago, followed by the subsequent restoration of the Decepticons’ fortress at Kolkular to full power thanks to their new source of energon, the base was filled with more activity than ever before. Numbers of hopeful recruits were growing steadily. Military training techniques for both ground troops and air warriors alike were constantly being improved and perfected, with an effort and enthusiasm that was mostly spearheaded by Onslaught, Thundercracker and Dirge. In addition, experimental Decepticon technology was being tested and developed at a rapid rate. Research and development teams were usually assigned and supervised by Scrapper, whilst more specialised units were normally overseen by Soundwave, Shockwave, or Starscream.

Taking a momentary, well-deserved break from evaluating the latest batch of air warrior hopefuls, Thundercracker entered the common room and took a brief moment to glance around before heading towards the wide bench in the lounge area. The room was almost empty save for a pair of self-conscious recruits, who saluted him respectfully yet avoided full optic contact with the command level seeker as he walked swiftly past their table. He could immediately tell they were intimidated by him, though he also sensed their admiration and respect; it was a reaction that was common among the new recruits, and one which he’d since gotten used to. He noted the time – middle of the afternoon shift – then took his seat and began scrolling through a list of names on a data pad he held in his hand.

It didn’t take long before his quiet time was cut short; a breem later, the confident foot-falls of his trine mate alerted him to his presence. The Air Commander dropped into the empty seat beside him as a volley of complaints began to assault his audio sensors without warning. The two recruits across the room did their best to pretend not to hear, though they were on full alert. No doubt the gossip would be flying among the newbies later that evening as fast as a fresh batch of hot oil cakes.

“I swear to you, Thundercracker, if that blundering idiot so much as turns the corner the wrong way I’m going to douse him in scented lubricant and send him to Sentinel Prime!”

Ouch! Starscream had obviously reached the end of his tether when it came to Nacelle. Thundercracker really couldn’t blame his trine leader for the unbridled frustration aimed at the pitiful seeker recruit, though despite the gravity of Starscream’s gripe he was left with no other recourse but to attempt to stifle a chuckle. His attempt failed miserably.

“What? You think it’s funny?” Starscream crossed his arms in a defensive posture as Thundercracker turned his head to acknowledge him with an amused smile.

“No, ‘course not,” he replied, though his inflection betrayed his good-humoured sarcasm. “So spill – what’s Nacelle done this time?” he asked after a moment, as their conversation took a more serious turn.

Starscream let out a low, defeated sigh and stole a quick glance at the data pad in his trine mate’s hand. “You probably wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” He paused to recollect his composure, and then shook his head in regret. “I hate to say it, Tee Cee, but he’s utterly useless. As you would be well aware, his combat and aerial skills are dismal at best, virtually non-existent at worst. I’ve been at a complete loss trying to decide what to do with him. I’ve tried – I really have. Then, when he showed some interest in scientific research I thought that perhaps he’d be good for _something…_ but, as I’ve recently discovered, he doesn’t even know his way around a chemical laboratory to save his own armor-plating! Now thanks to that dope – and one huge exothermic reaction later – I’ve got an unusable workshop and one off-lined Sunstorm on my hands. _And_ add to that, a _very_ unhappy Mixmaster.”

Thundercracker blanked the data pad’s screen and placed the hand-held device on the empty bench space beside him, casting a glance at the two snickering recruits before giving Starscream his full attention. “So, he blew up the Constructicons’ work shop, and knocked out Sunstorm in the process?” he summarised, surprised as he recalled his own memorable interactions with the unpopular seeker, then immediately regretted it as Starscream gave him _that_ look in return. “He’s sure outdone himself this time, no doubt,” he added simply. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help but find the whole thing quite comical.

* * *

Beneath the domed Stanix City, deep within the gloomy recesses, Thunderwing bowed respectfully in greeting and then waited patiently for his Master, who had his back turned to him. Only the familiar sound of the softly trickling acid channels that surrounded them could be heard. “You wanted to see me, Master,” he reminded him.

When, after several moments, Mordron still had not moved or spoken at all, Thunderwing began to wonder whether the old robot had even heard him, but then the thought quickly evaporated into the ethers as the disfigured mech turned sharply around to face him. “Ah, Thunderwing, my loyal warrior! It is time.”

The rough, grating sound that masqueraded as a voice did not repel Thunderwing, nor did the mech’s skeletal exostructure that had replaced most of his cranial housing, the three irregular optic sensors on his forehead, or the rows of sharp protrusions that lined his mouth top and bottom. In contrast, Thunderwing was a handsome mech, appropriately fitted with a traditional warrior’s armor in blue, green and white that had been purposely built for him. He carried dual katanas on his back, and a prominent chevron sat proudly upon the middle of his forehead.

“Time for what, Master?” the younger mech inquired with reserved curiosity, and the old master beckoned him forward with a wave of his gaunt hand. It had become warped and twisted over eons from the contamination that had eaten away at his metallic plating like some form of non-lethal cosmic rust.

“Do you not sense the great imbalance, Thunderwing? Our planet is on a path of self-destruction. Its inhabitants have become infected with such selfishness and such greed that they shall not be saved. They shall all drown in their iniquities. Autobots… and now Destrons, also – we can no longer ignore the widespread corruption that encroaches upon us, that threatens to overwhelm us and destroy us all. _We_ – you and I, Thunderwing – we are Cybertron’s last hope.” The ancient mech paused, his triple-optic gaze unwavering as he peered directly into his student’s optics. “It is time for the Reset!” he finally announced, his voice raspy and grinding.

With that, the Master spoke no further but started moving away in silence, navigating his way through the stony, narrow passages and the fissured ground of subterranean expanses as expertly as a turbo-rat.

Thunderwing watched the old mech’s frame recede into the shadows until he was no longer within normal visual range. He hesitated for only a moment, contemplating his Master’s words, until he felt raw trepidation and excitement welling up inside him. It was true – after the recent energy crisis and threat of a complete shutdown, the extent of corruption that pervaded his home planet had become evident to all. In addition, Mordron had spoken to him about the Reset on several occasions; it had become a closely guarded secret between them – one which he dared never to reveal to any outsider.

Without further delay, Thunderwing set off in silence after his Master.


	3. Chapter 3

Thunderwing kept pace with his Master as the ancient mech led them in silence ever deeper through the underground maze of caverns and tunnels beneath Stanix, neither stopping nor hesitating for even a moment to find his bearing. The darkness that enveloped them was broken up only by their own sources of illumination, and after almost an hour had passed he realized that he was in unfamiliar territory; his Master had never taken him this far down before, and as they pressed on it seemed like they were making their way to the very heart of Cybertron itself.

But eventually, and rather abruptly, Mordron came to a stop at the end of a long tunnel in front of what appeared to be a bottomless, square opening in the rough ground. Peering down into semi-darkness, Thunderwing could see that it was the entrance to a chute. Before he could stop or ask about it, Mordron jumped down through the hole and disappeared down the shaft, and a few astro-seconds later Thunderwing leaped down after him. Sliding and then free-falling through empty space, blindly and without thought of where he might land up, he placed his full trust in his mentor. After what felt like several breems had passed, his frame made contact with the smooth surface of the shaft wall and he felt as though he was being ejected from the bottom of a long chute, or being spewed out by one of the Leviacons of Aquatron, before landing firmly on solid ground.

He picked himself up and took note of his surroundings. His Master seemed to know exactly where they were, as he stood gazing towards what looked to be a sealed door to an ancient chamber, a few mechano-meters in front of them. “Come,” he said, speaking for the first time since they had left their familiar home beneath Stanix City. “We have arrived.”

Mordron moved towards a gold-colored keypad embedded beside the door and entered a combination of keys. The door slid open. “This is the only route to Vector Sigma that will not alert the Centurion droids,” he explained to Thunderwing.

“Vector Sigma?” the warrior repeated in confusion, only half-listening to his mentor’s words as he followed him into the chamber.

“Vector Sigma is what created the first of our race, including me. It is a conduit. It is the most powerful artificial mind in the galaxy, though it has remained dormant for eons,” the ancient mech answered.

As they approached the center of the chamber, Thunderwing’s attention was drawn to an ethereal, brightly glowing sphere that occupied space above a central platform. It levitated and bobbed gently up and down as if on an invisible current of air. The exterior of the sphere rippled like tranquil waves of an ocean, moving fluid-like in a gentle rhythm. He had never seen anything like it before, and it intrigued him greatly.

Then Mordron spoke to his student one last time. “Once I have merged with its energy, nothing will be able to stop me… but _you_ , Thunderwing, you _must_ seek out and retrieve the last remaining Key from the Autobots. It is the only way that you will be able to take command, once the Reset is complete.” He turned slowly back around to face the sphere and stepped closer to it, reaching out until his hand was a mere inches from the orb. As he continued to speak, his loyal student couldn’t help but notice how frail and disfigured his Master’s frame looked in contrast to the brilliant, steady glow of the powerful computer. “I have waited an eternity for this moment,” he said finally, before reaching out and placing his hand atop the sphere.

“No, Master, wait–” Thunderwing’s first reaction was to reach out to his mentor in an attempt to protect him from danger; however, he was suddenly taken aback as a brilliant flash of pink light shot out of the orb and engulfed Mordron. The energy invaded and coursed through every inch of the ancient mech’s frame as if every power conduit within his body had been activated all at once by a lightning bolt of immense power. His Master arched backwards, straining with effort, and began to scream in agony as he was transformed by the super computer’s incredible energy, but there was nothing Thunderwing could do to help him. All he could do was watch helplessly, aghast, until Mordron’s physical frame had completely disappeared and in its place was a terrifying, dragon-like monster of incorrigible red flame and energy, hovering in mid-air before him.

Thunderwing remained as he was, motionless and still in shock as he tried to come to terms with what was happening. No longer inhabiting a disfigured, twisted frame, his Master had merged with the energy of this mysterious, pulsating sphere and had turned into what appeared to be an invincible creature of ethereal substance.

Then the dragon began to grow larger before him, rising higher and higher into the air, and Thunderwing jumped a few steps back. Once the entity reached the chamber’s ceiling, it emanated such an intense heat and fire that it melted a tunnel right in the rock, before disappearing up through the wide, gaping hole that it had made.

The walls of the chamber around Thunderwing began to groan and tremble, and fragments of rock crumbled and fell. As the tremors increased in strength, he transformed into his shuttle mode and followed the fire demon out of the chamber, up through the new hole in the ceiling.

* * *

After confiding in Thundercracker regarding the accident-prone, untalented recruit by the name of Nacelle, Starscream had decided to raise the issue during that evening’s meeting in order to help him decide the seeker’s fate.

Megatron was the first to speak. “Starscream, I understand that there’s something you wish to discuss?” he said, his gaze falling upon the Air Commander.

“Oh, yes – but it can wait until we’ve covered the more pressing issues–”

“No, go ahead,” Megatron encouraged, cutting him off as he settled back in his chair. “Anything you wish to bring to the table is always important.”

The second-in-charge hesitated. He appreciated the sentiment, but he did not think that the problem of Nacelle was really worth too much of the Decepticon leader’s attention. Then again…

“Ahem… very well.” Starscream cleared his vocalizer, glanced around the room at all the expectant faces gazing straight back at him. “As I’ve mentioned before, I can’t find fault with our current recruitment program. Thanks to the efforts of mostly Thundercracker and Dirge, as well as Onslaught and his team, the Decepticons are growing in numbers and gaining skilled warriors by the day,” he stated, but then the confidence in his voice began to dissipate as he added, “However, there is a particular recruit who is proving to be a difficult case. Put simply, I have no idea what to do with him.” As soon as he’d mentioned the new recruit, he received knowing nods from around the table, including from Onslaught, Scrapper and even Soundwave; however it appeared that, up until that moment, Megatron had not heard about this troublesome new recruit.

“Difficult, you say?” the Decepticon leader ventured, and even before he’d finished asking several voices spoke up all at once.

“Well, that’s putting it mildly, Megatron. We had to close down our work shop today thanks to the mess he caused!” Scrapper complained. “We’re going to be two days behind schedule just to repair all the damage to our equipment.”

“Ugh. He’s talking about that Nacelle. Don’t get me started on _him_! He’s so clumsy he’s dangerous!” Onslaught exclaimed.

“Agreed. Nacelle is highly inexperienced, and an incompetent fool,” Soundwave chimed in, adding to the chorus of disgruntled voices.

“Indeed; just ask Sunstorm,” Starscream agreed.

“Kickback almost ended up in the repair bay, too, thanks to that clod, clod!” Shrapnel added, recounting a dramatic episode a week ago involving Nacelle, an incorrectly wired high-voltage junction box, and the Insecticons.

Megatron indicated with a raised hand until the complaints died down, then steepled his fingers in thought. “What is Sunstorm’s condition?” he wanted to know.

“He’s stable, yet unresponsive. At this stage we’ve no idea when he’ll regain consciousness,” Scrapper informed him.

Megatron nodded. “And… Nacelle – he is one of our recruits, you say?” The subject in question must be quite a piece of work, if he was able to garner so much negative feedback from almost his entire cadre of high-ranking Decepticons.

“Yeah,” Onslaught answered. “He’s been with us for… how long now?” He turned to Skywarp seated beside him.

“Almost a month.”

“And he’s a seeker, you say?” inquired Megatron.

“Unfortunately,” said Skywarp.

“And he has no useful skills to speak of–”

“None, not a single one!” Starscream exclaimed. He exhaled a long, drawn out stream of air, forcing himself to remain calm. “It is always with a heavy heart that I have to turn away any Destron, seeker or otherwise, who has shown as much interest in supporting our cause as Nacelle has. However, in this case I see no other option but to send him home. Our time and resources would be much better spent on other, more competent, recruits,” he said with sombre finality.

Megatron nodded as the other Decepticons sat around the table quietly waiting for his response. “Whilst I would agree with your decision, Starscream, and indeed you have a valid point, nonetheless I would like to make a request before you send him home.”

Starscream’s curiosity was piqued. “Of course. I welcome any suggestion.”

“I would personally like to meet this… Nacelle, and speak with him. Who knows – perhaps there _is_ something he can do to help the Decepticon cause?” Megatron proposed, to the Decepticons’ uncertain yet curious reaction.

Starscream was cautious yet hopeful of the idea. “Well, if there is any mech on Cybertron who is able to bring out the best in Nacelle, it would be you, Megatron,” he said with all sincerity.

“Good, then have him meet me tomorrow, before the beginning of the day’s first shift–”

The Decepticon leader was interrupted by an alert from their base’s remote monitoring system, which caused a continuous beeping to come from one of the room’s terminals. Soundwave moved quickly across to the wall panel, where he was able to connect to the main computer and check the alert. He turned to Megatron. “Unusual seismic activity has just been detected, with a focus located at approximately seventy-five thousand astro-miles below the capital city of Stanix.”

“Hm, think it’s serious?” Thundercracker wondered aloud.

Megatron rose from his seat and paced towards Soundwave, looking down at the flashing red light on the terminal as he contemplated the news. “Hmm. It’s hard to say. Stanix City – indeed the entire region – is inhabited by largely independent populations – always has been. It would be unwise to venture into their territory without good reason.” He paused for a few moments. “Still, any unexplained seismic activity warrants further investigation.”

“The disturbance is steadily increasing in magnitude. Its continuous frequency suggests that it is not a natural phenomenon…” Soundwave trailed off, striving to gain a better understanding of what he was observing.

“Soundwave?” Megatron prompted.

The communications expert glanced at their leader. “I am unable to determine its exact cause. Additional data for analysis is required,” he affirmed.

“Is it showing any sign of abating?”

Soundwave looked again at the rudimentary data he had on hand. “No.”

“Keep monitoring the disturbance. Inform me the moment you have more information,” Megatron replied.

“Yes, Megatron.” Soundwave disconnected himself from the terminal, then turned and left the meeting room without further ado, making his way to the communications room.

As soon as he was gone, Megatron turned to the others. “In the meantime, we’ll get a closer look. Thundercracker, Skywarp – recon Stanix City and report back if you notice anything unusual. The rest of you, try to get some recharge, but remain on standby.”

The two seekers gave the Decepticon leader a quick nod before exiting the room, and the rest dispersed to their quarters.


	4. Chapter 4

Thunderwing flew straight upwards in shuttle mode, following the newly forged tunnel until it ended abruptly at the first sub-surface level below the City. Transforming back into robot mode, he noticed the ground trembling beneath his feet but could not see the Vector Sigma creation anywhere.

He heard the resounding echo of footsteps and the sound of alerted voices and turned towards the main passageway that led directly up to the surface, then relaxed at the sight of three familiar mechs, who hurried towards him.

“Thunderwing! We’ve been looking all over for you! What’s happening–?” An indigo and tan-colored mech by the name of Ruckus exclaimed loudly, but was distracted by an intense tremor that almost threw him off his feet. The ground and walls of the cavern shook even more violently than they had before, until the rocky infrastructure around them began to crack and shift in several places.

“This whole place is collapsing! We’ve got to get out of here!” said the second mech who was called Crankcase, a blue and grey Destron with an off-road alt mode. He turned and began to head back up towards the surface as he pushed past Windsweeper.

Thunderwing joined his friends without speaking, taking the lead and guided them away from immediate danger, up and out onto the surface of the City. However, the situation at ground level was not much better; panic had overtaken pedestrians as they ran hither and thither along the tidy streets.

“The apocalypse is upon us! The apocalypse is upon us!” a voice cried out repeatedly, its owner's optics widened in terror as he brushed past Ruckus.

Windsweeper, a red and white flyer, silently looked to Thunderwing for answers as Crankcase contemplated the possibility of a doomsday scenario. However, there was no time to talk as the force field that formed the transparent dome of the majestic City above their heads began to spark and destabilize.

“Where’s Mordron?” Ruckus cut in above the din, keeping close to Thunderwing as the taller, blue and white warrior began to lead the way past the confusion that had struck the city streets.

“He is no more,” Thunderwing replied resolutely. “Come, we must go to the Autobots. They have something that I need.”

Ruckus turned to his two companions as they all looked at one another in bewilderment, but then the three of them set off after Thunderwing, whom they looked up to as a leader.

* * *

Alone in his quarters at Iacon’s military command post, Sentinel Prime squeezed his hand into a tight ball and slammed his fist down upon his desktop. Troubled by a heated exchange with Proteus earlier that day – the Autobot Elders’ most favoured go-between – the Council was putting the screws on him, demanding that he formally deal with the Decepticons after their meddling during the recent energy crisis which, they’d claimed, had seriously hindered their “grand plans”. Prowl, his personal advisor, had shown concern and had offered to help but Sentinel, in his quick-tempered manner, had sent him away.

There was nothing that Prowl could have done, besides – still, he almost regretted having snapped at him – _almost_.

His private com line startled him out of his thoughts. _Beep_.

“Oh, what is it now?” he muttered to himself, half-considering shutting down his com station completely and turning in for the night. It was well past recharge hour, after all, and he’d had enough. _Beep_.

He pressed the button to open the communications line and put it on audio. He didn’t care if the world was about to come to an end – he refused to engage in any further secure comms that day. “This had better be worth it!” he said bluntly, without bothering to wait for the other end to explain its reason for being.

“Sentinel, sir?” Prowl’s steady, ever patient voice came over the channel. How Prowl continued to put up with his short-tempered nature was anyone’s guess; however, though he’d never admit it to anyone he was quietly grateful for his presence.

“Yes, Prowl, go ahead?”

“We’re picking up an unusual disturbance approximately seventy-five thousand astro-miles deep, beneath the region of Stanix,” Prowl reported.

“What kind of disturbance?” Sometimes he wished Prowl would just get to the point, but this time his advisor paused uncertainly.

“It’s difficult to say, Prime. We’re unable to determine a cause, or an exact point of origin. Our seismic detectors must be malfunctioning…” Prowl faltered. It _was_ late, and a mystery of this sort was the last thing Sentinel would want to deal with right now.

“Well then, send a team out there to investigate! Was there anything else?” Sentinel replied with a concerted yet vain attempt to remain calm.

Prowl hesitated. “Uh, no, Prime; however–”

“Good. Sentinel out.” Disconnecting the line, he powered down his terminal, leaned back in his seat and finally shut off his optics.

* * *

The scene that was unfolding on the ground below, as Thundercracker and Skywarp circled above Stanix City in their jet configurations, was completely unexpected. The dome shield, which had protected the palatial City for vorns, had collapsed, the City’s inhabitants clamouring for safety as the ground rumbled and shook beneath them. Under the stress of the seismic disturbance, large fissures and cracks began to appear in the pavements; several buildings crumbled and fell to the ground, while other outbuildings and infrastructure were crushed under the weight of the rubble of rock and twisted metal. The sounds of shouting and panicked cries could be heard from high up in the air.

It took a few moments for the two seekers to fully come to terms with what they were witnessing, but then Thundercracker quickly reported back to Kolkular via secure comms. “Stanix City is in serious trouble. It looks as if it’s been hit by a cataclysmic impact of some kind, but we can’t tell what’s causing it. I’m sending a visual – standby.”

Inside the communications room at the Decepticons’ Kolkular fortress, Soundwave watched the live transmission with quiet astonishment as he alerted Megatron to the developing situation, but after several moments there was a bright orange and blue flash on the visual, accompanied by loud static, and then the feed abruptly disconnected.

“Can you re-establish a link?” Megatron asked quickly, though Soundwave had already attempted several times to link back up with Thundercracker, then with Skywarp.

He shook his head regretfully. “No. Something’s wrong. There is no response from either of them.” Even before they had time to guess what might have happened, the two of them were already heading for the door on their way to Stanix.

* * *

After quickly navigating through the confusion and chaos on the streets, Thunderwing and his small clan reached the barren plains outside the City as they fought to keep their footing on ground that continued to shake and jolt beneath them, though as they moved further away from the epicenter the intensity of the quake lessened.

The four mechs came to a stop a safe distance away and turned to look back at the ruination of the city that had for vorns been their home. Crankcase could only gasp in shock. He could not believe his optics as he watched their once-beautiful capital continue to crumble and fall. At its outskirts, clusters of suddenly homeless mechs gathered and ran out onto the plains, seeking to escape the chaos and confusion.

“It is…” Thunderwing began, but trailed off as they looked towards the ruined capital; from behind the largest ruins emerged a gargantuan, fiery dragon – brilliant and terrifying against the velvety black of Cybertron’s night sky, flaming tendrils swirling across its surface. As it moved higher above the collapsed dome it resembled a rogue comet about to bring fire and destruction down upon a somber world.

“What…?” Windsweeper murmured, pointing up at the sky. But astonishment soon turned to uneasiness and apprehension as he looked to Thunderwing for an answer.

The warrior’s own countenance changed as he realized with fascination that the entity they saw in the sky was the very same that had been created by the merging of Vector Sigma’s energy with his Master, only it was now greatly increased in size. “It’s the Master, he has merged with…” he began to explain, and then hesitated.

“Merged? What are you talking about?” Ruckus demanded with urgency, still unable to fully comprehend that he was witnessing the destruction of his home whilst being unable to do anything to stop it.

“With… Vector Sigma,” Thunderwing completed his sentence, even though he knew that his companions would not understand. Before he could even think of giving them an explanation, the blazing demon opened its massive mouth as if ready to swallow the world whole. Then, like a shooting star of the Apocalypse, it swept low in a wide arch over the City with a thunderous roar. As it did so, it unleashed tendrils of electric energy that reached out like flashes of lightning in all directions. Any mech unlucky enough to be standing too close was struck by a discharge and taken off-line, his chassis charred and smoking.

Two of these discharges connected to a pair of unfamiliar flyers circling overhead – though some distance away – and as Thunderwing watched, the two airborne planes reverted to their robot modes before falling from the sky in a shower of sparks, crashing into the flat terrain of the barren plains.

* * *

When Thundercracker regained consciousness, he drew himself up to his hands and knees and performed a diagnostic check, then looked around for Skywarp. His friend was lying on the ground nearby; like himself, he had sustained damage to his armour plating and some of his secondary systems, but was otherwise still functional. He crawled over towards the purple and black seeker and carefully turned him over onto his back. “Sky? Sky, can you hear me?” he said.

Skywarp stirred. His red optics began to glow brighter and he groaned, pushed himself up onto his elbows. “What was that… _thing_?”

Thundercracker helped his friend to his feet, and then looked out across the open expanse towards the devastated and smouldering city. Several groups of mechs were still scattered about the barren plains looking lost and confused, their silhouettes blending into the darkness of the night cycle. Some distance behind them, a group of four mechs were silently approaching. “I have no idea, but whatever it was, it’s gone now.” The sight of the ruined capital prompted him to attempt to re-establish a com link back to base, but it was to no avail. “Damn. My radio's fried. Try yours.”

His friend complied, but then shook his head. “Nope. We should try to get back to–” He was interrupted by Thundercracker tapping him on the arm, causing him to turn around.

A tall, blue and white mech held a large, four-barrelled weapon that was aimed at both of them. He appeared to be scrutinizing them, and his expression was one of displeasure. He was accompanied by three others. “Outsiders have no business being here!” he denounced the two seekers, but then paused to reconsider the situation. “But, if you can tell me where I may find the Key to Vector Sigma, then I shall let you both live,” he offered.

In need of repairs and without their comms, Thundercracker knew that they wouldn’t stand a good chance in a direct confrontation against these hostile mechs, who outnumbered them four to two. Furthermore, he recognized the weapon that was being pointed at them – it was a rarely seen, yet very powerful, cyclone cannon. If its wielder was a sharpshooter, he could be taken out of the sky before he’d reached full velocity from take-off. “The key to _what_? Look – we don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied, somewhat irately.

“Yeah, and besides, if anything happens to us you’ll have our entire army after you. And believe me – you wouldn’t want _that_ ,” Skywarp added, crossing his arms in front of him and staring back resolutely at the gang leader from Stanix.

Thunderwing hesitated, but kept his weapon trained on them. Then he snarled. “Before too long… you and your army shall perish; and all on Cybertron will be no more. Only the uncorrupted shall survive to rebuild our world.” He spoke slowly, watching the two seekers’ reactions carefully, until his gaze settled upon the purple Decepticon insignias on both their wings. “You are of the Elite Guard?”

The question caused Thundercracker to raise an optic brow. “Elite Guard? No – we’re _Decepticons_ ,” he asserted. Then, before he could enquire about what the mech had meant by his doomsday prediction, sounds of military jets in the western sky alerted them all to company approaching. “Speaking of which,” he added as he looked up towards the flight of approaching jets, Starscream leading them, and gave Skywarp a smile.

But by the time Megatron and his contingent arrived to offer assistance, the leader of the clan had already transformed into a shuttlecraft and taken off into the night with his three companions on board.


	5. Chapter 5

After Thundercracker and Skywarp had returned to Kolkular with Megatron, Starscream, Dirge and Thrust, they’d been sent straight to the med bay for repairs, where Hook had worked on them right away, repairing their comms and other interconnecting sub-systems that had been burned out, as well as repairing the sections of damaged armour plating.

The unused room adjacent to the Constructicons’ work shop on the second floor of the Central Tower had been recently fitted out to serve as the Decepticon’s dedicated repair bay, though no patient had been admitted until the incident with Sunstorm the day before, followed by the two command level seekers as a result of their encounter with the mysterious fire dragon that same night in Stanix.

From his med berth, Thundercracker settled his gaze upon the work shop that was closed down for repairs. It was the middle of the night cycle and he couldn’t seem to power down; the vision of that enormous, all-consuming demon that he and Skywarp had encountered kept replaying in his mind, as did the spontaneous and unforeseen destruction of an entire City.

He felt reassured as he watched Skywarp resting peacefully on the berth beside his own. Next to his wing mate, Sunstorm lay awake on another berth, hooked up to various monitors and alarms. Hook had said that while the yellow seeker was in a stable condition, he would still need a few more days in the repair bay before he could return to active duty.

When Megatron, Starscream and Soundwave came to see them a little later, both he and Skywarp tried to explain exactly what they’d seen in Stanix as best they could, though there weren’t sufficient words.

“So, let me get this straight – a giant, blazing creature from the Pit… appeared from out of Stanix City, zapped the both of you right out of the sky, and then simply vanished?” Starscream repeated, slowly and deliberately. “And it was this very same… _thing_ … that also destroyed the City?”

Thundercracker looked at Megatron and then back at his trine leader in earnest. “Yeah.” Soundwave, who was standing silently behind them, listened intently. “I’m sorry I can’t tell you anything more, but I’ve never seen anything like it. It was–” Once again he faltered, shaking his head at the memory as he met Skywarp’s attentive gaze, and he was suddenly reminded of the clan of mechs they’d encountered that night and the things their leader had said. He had a bad feeling about it all. “I don’t know what the slag it was or where it came from, but something really strange is going on and I think it’s bigger than Stanix – _much_ bigger.”

* * *

Before the senior ranked Decepticons gathered for a briefing early the next day, the door to Megatron’s quarters alerted him to a visitor. At first, he thought that it might be one of the command seekers, or perhaps Soundwave, ready with an update on the status of Stanix City, but then he remembered the meeting the previous day and the recruit that his entire cadre of senior officers had complained about – what was his name, again? Oh, yes – Nacelle.

“Enter.”

After a long moment the door slid open and a red face with a blue helm poked around the corner, followed by the rest of the body. The seeker, who was mostly a navy blue, red and white, seemed hesitant to step into Megatron’s quarters, so the Decepticon leader ushered him in with a wave.

“Come in.”

Nacelle did as he was beckoned, making his way closer towards Megatron’s desk. He saluted and remained standing as straight as he could manage, his optics looking straight ahead. His entire frame began to shake slightly, as if he were about to be given his marching orders. Needless to say, he looked, and felt, extremely uncomfortable.

Megatron, on the other hand, was the epitome of confidence and authority. He rose from his seat, returned the seeker’s salute, and then sat down again as he motioned for his guest to do the same. “And you must be Nacelle?” he enquired in an informal manner, surveying the recruit.

Nacelle nodded and quickly sat down in a chair opposite. “Y-yes, sir. That’s me. Nacelle!” He grinned a little, intimidated by Megatron’s direct optic contact.

The Decepticon leader ignored the seeker’s awkwardness, studied him intently for a long moment before he spoke again. “Tell me, Nacelle; how are you finding it here?”

Nacelle’s face fell and his optics turned instantly into large, red orbs. “Sir?”

“Do you like being a part of our humble little outfit?” Megatron clarified with a hint of jollity, motioning with his hands.

“Oh!” The proverbial coin dropped. “Oh, right! Well, I love it. I’ve always wanted to be a freedom fighter, you know? Just like you, and Starscream, and Thundercracker, and all the other really awesome Decepticons.”

“Hm. So… you’ve had no problem fitting in, then?”

“Erm…” Nacelle’s shoulders slumped. There was a long pause. A very long pause, as Nacelle fidgeted with the arm rest. Finally he cleared his vocal processor. “Well… may I be perfectly honest with you, sir?”

Megatron feigned mild surprise, opening out his hands. “Of course.”

Nacelle seemed to calm down somewhat, nodding and taking in a deep intake of air before slowly releasing it. “I – I don’t think they like me too much, sir,” he confessed.

Megatron raised a brow. “‘They’?”

The recruit nodded again. “Yeah – Starscream, Thundercracker – you know? Almost everyone, I think… the Con-trac-ticons?”

“The _Construc-_ ticons,” Megatron corrected quickly. He folded his hands atop his desk. “And why do you suppose that they don’t like you?” he asked, with seemingly all the patience in the world.

Nacelle shrugged. “I mean, okay – so I’ve had a few accidents and _yesss_ , I’ve made a few mistakes, too… okay, maybe more than just a _few_ , so sure, I’ll be the first to admit that I’m a bit of a klutz, you know, but – like what happened earlier today – I swear I had _no_ idea that Sunstorm was standing right behind me with a flask filled with that nitro stuff. When I turned round and walked right into him, he fell backwards but I didn’t even see him hit the floor because then there was this huge explosion. The entire room and everything around me just turned white, and–” Nacelle began to work himself up as he spoke, his nervousness evident once more. The only thing that stopped him in his tracks was Megatron’s hand held up in a gesture that indicated for him to stop. Obviously, he’d heard enough.

“May I offer you some advice?”

“Uh… okay, sure,” Nacelle replied uncertainly, shrugging again.

“It seems to me that you’re trying too hard to gain the others’ approval. Just try to be more like yourself, and… who knows? The others might even begin to appreciate your – as yet – uncharted talents,” Megatron explained in a straightforward, no-nonsense manner.

Needless to say, his advice hit Nacelle like a truth bomb. “Oh.”

As the seeker recruit pondered the Decepticon leader’s sobering words with his head bowed, the control panel on the door to the quarters gave a short beep and blinked with a green light, indicating a visitor.

“Enter,” Megatron responded, and the door slid quietly open. Starscream, waiting in the hallway, hastily strode into the room but stopped short when he noticed Nacelle sitting in the chair opposite the desk.

“Megatron? We’re ready for – oh, hello, Nacelle,” he greeted with mild surprise.

Nacelle hastily jumped up and saluted, “Sir!” But then seemed to recall Megatron’s words, and shifted into a more relaxed pose while inhaling deeply.

Starscream gave him a small nod, then returned his attention to Megatron. “We’re ready for the briefing,” he said, sounding somewhat urgent. “It appears that Thundercracker was right – something strange _is_ going on.”

Megatron nodded and began to follow Starscream towards the door, stopping for only a moment to acknowledge the seeker recruit. “Nacelle, just remember my advice. You’re dismissed,” he said, before disappearing from view as he headed out with his second-in-command.

* * *

After disappearing from Stanix City the previous night in his shuttle mode Thunderwing had remained air borne, surveying the ground below as he cruised silently through the night sky until, early the next cycle, the Autobot’s official city state of Iacon came into view on the horizon.

“Is that the city of the Autobots?” Crankcase asked, breaking a temporary lull in conversation. Along with Thunderwing and Windsweeper, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about their recently ruined home City, and was glad for the distraction, while Ruckus had spoken almost non-stop through most of the last cycle about what New Cybertron was going to be like after the completion of the Reset.

“How do you even know the Key is here, Thunderwing?” Ruckus cut in, ignoring Crankcase.

For a long moment Thunderwing did not reply. Then abruptly he spotted movement down below and altered course, beginning his descent towards a dockyard situated on the bank of a canal, just south of Iacon. “I don’t, but that’s why we’re here. One way or another, we’re going to find out.”

* * *

Outside the main student hall at the War Academy, the class of disorderly cadets set off early for combat training in the central arena. It was the morning’s first lesson, and many of them were not looking forward to it – particularly the mini-bots – who would be pitted against other, often much stronger, members of their class.

“Just don’t let your puny size get in the way of kicking any of their tail pipes,” Hot Rod advised Tailgate in an unconcerned, cavalier manner as he pointed a thumb towards the likes of Pipes and Sureshot, completely ignoring the gullible mini-bot’s anguished expression and leaving him in the dust as he sprinted ahead to catch up to Optronix. “Hey, Op! Wait up!” Never one to be rude, Optronix stopped to wait for his friend.

“Okay, so… what’s gotten into you today?” Hot Rod asked after noticing Optronix’s troubled expression; despite his spirited yet often careless attitude, he was remarkably perceptive when it came to reading his friend’s moods – no easy task considering the large bot’s generally reserved, indomitable persona.

Optronix watched as Sprocket gave Powerflash a high-five, though it was clear that his thoughts were a million astro-miles away. “Stanix City… was destroyed last night.”

Hot Rod stopped in his tracks as though he’d been hit by a mag-lev train, his optics widening into round, blue orbs. “What?!” he managed, his voice harsh with shock. “Wait – what do you mean _destroyed_?” His reaction had attracted the attention of Crosscut, Swerve and Pipes, who moved closer to listen in on the conversation.

The solidly-built white, red and blue cadet turned his gaze away from his class mates and resumed walking. “It was on the general broadcast last night. It is not known exactly how it occurred, or why,” Optronix informed them, speaking in a low voice. The tragic event had left him feeling obviously down.

“Stanix City? Isn’t that near the equator somewhere? Good thing it didn’t happen closer to Iacon,” Sureshot called out cheerfully, adding his thoughts uninvited.

“C’mon, all of those mechs from Stanix City are either now dead or homeless. Don’t you care about anybody but yourself?” Blaster said, catching up with his friends while admonishing Sureshot in a rare display of indignation. He shook his head in disgust. “Yeah, I saw the report, too.”

“What could have caused it?” Crosscut asked.

“They don’t know. Our scientists detected an unusual disturbance from deep inside the planet directly beneath Stanix, but they don’t believe it was the sole reason for the collapse of the entire City,” Optronix explained, then paused in thought. “A couple of Decepticons were reportedly near Stanix City at the same time that it was destroyed. I don’t know… but something about this whole thing doesn’t feel right,” he confided, then added, “I only wish there was something I could do.”

“Hey – it wouldn’t hurt to ask Prime if there’s anything we can do to help, would it? Come on!” Hot Rod suddenly grabbed his friend by the arm with renewed energy, pulling him in the opposite direction away from the War Academy.

“Oh, no, I don’t think that’s such a good–” Optronix began, shaking his head in protest, but it was no use as he was already being dragged away from the rest of the group. Once Hot Rod got it into his head to do something, it seemed that nothing could stop him.

Blaster watched the two of them go and then, a few moments later, shook his head and started sprinting to catch up to them.


	6. Chapter 6

A bot named Dion and his girlfriend Ariel clocked in to begin their day’s work at one of the numerous storage yards by the energy docks that dotted the Kalis-Altihex canal. They worked long shifts day after day, earning a decent living unloading and distributing energy shipments that were sent down to the yard from the large power plant located in Iacon’s south-west. Thanks to the steady work at the docks, Dion would never need to worry about his future, yet despite this he constantly yearned for something more; deep down in his fuel pump he had an insatiable desire for risk-taking and adventure. Even though Ariel did not share this same longing, he often dreamed of working his way up the ranks to become one of the Autobot’s Elite Guard, or exploring deep space whilst serving under Sentinel Prime; and, in fact, it was only for Ariel’s sake that he had not yet signed up at the War Academy in Iacon.

Despite his rather monotonous lifestyle, however, something was telling him that today would be unlike any other day; today, something _big_ was about to transpire – he could feel it in his sensory circuits!

“Hey, Ariel! I’ve gotta head into the big city right after today’s shift to see about getting that hydraulics upgrade I’ve been wanting – anyway, was hoping you’d want to come with?”

Ariel walked into the storage hangar and powered up the overhead lights without looking back at him, instead she gave him an exasperated sigh. “But you don’t need a hydraulics upgrade, Dion,” she said, but then her seriousness turned into a tease. “You’re _more_ than strong enough for me.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” The blue and yellow dock worker leaped ahead of his girlfriend with arms outstretched in a gesture of exaggerated sincerity and feigned innocence. “Come _on_ , Ariel, you don’t think I’d ever be _that_ shallow, do you?” he began, and as she offered him a look of playful scepticism his optics became fixated upon something behind her, just outside the hangar.

“Dion? Dion, what’s–?” Her expression shifted to one of concern and she turned to look behind her, following his gaze. “Oh!”

Four unfamiliar mechs stood just outside the open entranceway; the tallest and largest of them was colored predominantly blue and white and carried two katanas across his back, while the other three behind him did not look nearly as imposing, though nevertheless were still solidly-built mechs in their own right, particularly in comparison to both Dion and Ariel.

“Well, hello there,” the leader greeted. His voice was powerful yet also confident and smooth. He stepped inside the hangar without waiting to be invited, his companions close behind him. “I was hoping you could help us, perhaps?”

Despite her obvious apprehension, Ariel couldn’t help but be fascinated by him; Dion instinctively placed a hand on her forearm in a gesture of protectiveness, but she gave him a reprimanding look and then stepped forwards. “Oh, hello. Um, I’m sorry but you shouldn’t be here, you know… if our supervisor finds out I’ve allowed strangers in I’ll get into big trouble,” she explained rather apologetically. A few moments of tense silence followed as the uninvited stranger considered what she’d said, but then he finally answered her.

“Ah, forgive me; the last thing we want to do is get you into trouble, my dear.” He offered her a warm smile as he silently appraised them both; she began to visibly relax, but something told Dion that they should not trust this mech – not by a long shot. “How impolite of me – I haven’t introduced myself yet. I’m Thunderwing, by the way, and these are my friends Ruckus, Crankcase and Windsweeper,” the mech continued, indicating behind him towards his companions.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” Ariel replied, returning his smile. “My name’s Ariel, and this is Dion.” She nodded politely at his companions and then returned his gaze. “You wouldn’t happen to be Autobots from out of town, would you?” she asked curiously. “I’ve never seen any mechs like you four around here before.”

Her question almost caught Thunderwing off guard. “Autobots?” He and his companions grinned, amused by the idea. “Oh, no, we’re not Autobots.” He paused, wondering what he ought to tell them as they waited expectantly for his reply. “No, we’re… Decepticons,” he stated carefully. He had no idea what kind of a response this should elicit from these two bots, so when they reacted positively he was pleased.

Ariel’s optics suddenly lit up. “Oh, wow, you’re Decepticons? I heard about what you guys did – how you helped save the planet from going into a total shutdown and all, even though the major broadcast networks don’t ever want to talk about it, for some reason,” Ariel explained offhand, excited that they were in the presence of some real-life Decepticon warriors – a little too excited, perhaps. She seemed to reconsider their request. “Well, since you’re already here… how can we be of help?”

“To put it simply, we are on a very important mission. We’re looking for a special artefact – perhaps one of you might know where it is. In fact, it’s absolutely critical that we find it.” Thunderwing paced around the hangar as he spoke, his hands clasped behind his back in a casual manner while gazing toward the pallets in the far corner stacked neatly with containers full of energon.

“Look, we’re sorry but we don’t know of any–” Dion began, but was hastily interrupted by Ariel.

“Well, what kind of artefact?”

Thunderwing spun on his heel to meet her gaze. “It’s a special key. The key to Vector Sigma,” he stated with conviction.

She exchanged glances with her prospective bond mate, who looked genuinely confounded. Dion then stepped forwards tentatively to address the mech called Thunderwing. “I’m sorry… but we’ve never heard of any key like that.” Despite his reservations, he sounded sincerely disappointed.

“Oh, have you tried asking the Museum?” Ariel offered, wanting to be helpful. “That’s the first place I’d check if I was looking for some important artefact.”

“The Museum, you say?” Thunderwing’s curiosity was suddenly kindled.

“Why, yes! The Military Museum in central Iacon,” she confirmed, then added, “I’d be happy to take you there, if you’d like?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of allowing you to get into any trouble on our account,” he said, and just as he’d expected, Ariel took the bait.

“No, please – it’s important, or you wouldn’t have come all the way out here,” she insisted, then glanced at Dion beseechingly. “Right, Dion?”

At first he thought it was a bad idea, but then he reconsidered – her kind nature and her readiness to offer help to any who needed it melted his fuel pump every time. “Ah, what the hell – sure, why not?” he said, returning her smile and clasping her hand tightly. “The next shipment isn’t due to arrive for another two breems, anyway,” he added, and began to lead the way out of the hangar. “Well, come on, then – follow us!”

* * *

Inside the Military Intelligence Museum, its newly appointed curatorial assistant pressed a button on a small pad set into the back wall and then input a restricted access code. The young bot watched as two panels retracted and the invisible force field deactivated, and then carefully reached in to retrieve the polished artefact. Holding it up to examine it with great interest, he hadn’t noticed the group of visitors until they stood right behind him. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” he said, admiring the artefact, before turning around to acknowledge the new arrivals. It _was_ rather unusual for the Museum to have any visitors this early in the day, he thought, but no matter. “Oh, you must all be from the Academy, right?”

The femme among them laughed amicably at his suggestion. “The Academy? Oh, no, not at all. Dion and I, you see, we were just showing these Decepticons the Museum,” she explained, indicating towards Dion by her side and then at the four mechs standing behind them.

Before she could continue, Thunderwing stepped around her to approach the Museum assistant. “If I may take a look at that,” he said, more demanding than a request, and reached out to take the artefact from the assistant.

“Careful! I don’t think you should be handling–”

But even before he’d finished protesting, Thunderwing was already holding the Key in his possession, holding it up for his companions to see.

“You mean _that’s_ what we’ve been looking for? Doesn’t look like much of a key to me,” remarked the blue and grey mech standing behind Thunderwing.

“We should probably get out of here, now that we have it,” said the red and beige flyer in a casual manner. Nevertheless, Windsweeper’s words were enough to tip the Autobots off to Thunderwing’s true agenda, and the museum assistant hit the security alarm before the imposing thief or his companions could stop him.

“W-What’s going on?” Ariel cried, clinging instinctively to Dion’s arm, who looked around confused for a moment before lunging towards Thunderwing in an attempt to grab a hold of him and stop him from escaping with the Key.

“No! Stop!”

However, the dock worker was no match for the warrior; possessing superior skill and strength, Thunderwing easily brushed him aside. Even as the security system activated, sealing them all inside the museum whilst security droids emerged from their hidden recesses along the back wall, Thunderwing held the Key up in triumph, seemingly unconcerned by the ever-encroaching droids that were programmed to stop and disable any would-be thief.

Ariel screamed as a pair of cannons appeared from Ruckus’ shoulders, followed by a deafening explosion and a bright orange flash after the mech took aim at Dion and fired, double explosives hitting the dock worker directly in the chest.

“Thank you – you’ve been most helpful,” Thunderwing said to Ariel, ignoring her pleas and cries for him to stop, and before she knew what to do the Key in his hand suddenly glowed brightly, radiating a shimmering yellow energy. This energy continued to expand outwards in all directions as he held the artefact up high, until it pulsed and exploded in a flash. The last thing that Ariel saw before she was knocked offline by falling chunks of metal was what looked to her like the enormous, writhing body of a fire demon, suddenly appearing through a gaping hole in the demolished roof of the museum.

* * *

The three cadets, who had been set on getting to the Iacon Command Center to see Prime, never arrived. Their short journey from the War Academy was halted abruptly when a blinding light and a loud, thundering crash that sounded like an erupting volcano diverted their attention. Hot Rod stared and pointed in shock. “ _Look_ – what in the…”

The scene that greeted their optics was a frightening sight; a furious, blazing comet of fire was spreading chaos and destruction everywhere it went. Several buildings were torn down in an instant, suspension bridges ripped apart without a second thought. Smoke billowed from ruined spires and, adding to the mayhem and confusion, bots ran shouting into the streets as intense flames all around them warned of the city’s impending doom.

“Oh, slag… what are we going to do?” Blaster gasped, watching as the steeple atop a control tower a few blocks away fell crashing to the ground, several bots jumping for their lives from alcoves and turrets lower down. Both he and Hot Rod instinctively turned to Optronix for guidance – more than any other cadet, he would know what to do.

“Slag… isn’t that where the museum is?” Hot Rod pointed out suddenly, and he was right. Indeed, the heart of the conflagration appeared to be located in the very same spot.

“Alpha Trion… he could be in there!” Optronix voiced aloud his most immediate concern – that of the safety and well being of his guardian – and the next thing they knew, their good friend was moving quickly towards ground zero with little concern or regard for his own safety.

“Wait! Optronix! You can’t go in there! It’s too dangerous! Optronix!” Hot Rod called out, but his warning was ignored as the destructive blaze raged several blocks away. Even before he’d called out his friend’s name a second time, Optronix was the rapidly diminishing figure of a transformed truck in the distance.

Hot Rod glanced at Blaster for only a moment before he took off after Optronix, transforming into his modified racer and speeding ahead to catch up. Immediately Blaster transformed into his cassette deck alt mode and jumped into his friend’s driver’s seat, not wanting to watch as a good portion of south-central Iacon burned to the ground before their optics.


	7. Chapter 7

By the time Optronix had screeched to a stop just outside the museum, the building was already unsalvageable, smouldering and melted in the aftermath of the blaze, though bright orange flames still escaped from a gaping hole at the top of the structure. Thick, black smoke hung over the entire street block, which had already been consumed by the raging inferno as it slowly moved away in its never ending quest for more unburned ground to devour, leaving nothing but toxic smoke and ruin in its wake. One block away the long, slick tendrils of radiation, as well as the strong smell of molten metal that hung in the air, were a strong indication that this was no ordinary blaze.

“Alpha Trion…” Without a second thought, Optronix transformed back into his robot mode and made a run towards the museum, then disappeared through the half-melted door frame as he shielded his face with his face mask from the scintillating embers that fell from the sky. He barely registered his friends behind him calling out his name.

“Optronix! Optronix, you can’t go in there – it’s too dangerous!” Blaster watched in alarm, dazed and unable to make sense of the devastating inferno that continued to spread beyond the city block.

“We’ve got to go in after him!” Hot Rod yelled at him, “ _Now_!”

There was no time to reconsider their options. The two of them raced into the burning building after their class mate, avoiding falling chunks of pylon and sections of molten conduit in their path as best they could. Once inside, a quick scan revealed Optronix at the rear of the museum, just beyond the source of the orange flames – an antique energon container that burned with the fierceness of a ravenous beast – kneeling over what looked to be the inert frame of a mech in his arms. Hot Rod rushed to his side, half-expecting to find his best friend anguishing over an off-lined Alpha Trion whose face had melted beyond recognition, but when he saw the fallen bot he was taken by surprise.

“Optronix! Optronix, we’ve got to get out of here, now!”

Optronix stood up straight and turned to face him. An off-lined femme, her frame almost completely pink in color though tarnished by several scorch marks, rested in his arms as though she were in peaceful recharge. “Help me get the others out of here,” he said, indicating with a nod of his head behind him.

Hot Rod, optics wide with disbelief, scanned the surrounding floor for other victims. Blaster was already moving towards a blue, red and white bot sprawled face-down on the ground, so he quickly stepped across and bent down to pick up the third bot. There was no time to evaluate his condition as he quickly followed his two class mates out of the danger zone and back out onto the street. He did not dare slow down until he knew they were safe.

Gently placing the bot he’d rescued on the ground, Hot Rod checked him for vital signs and then looked up at his friends. He couldn’t bring himself to tell them, so instead he simply shook his head regretfully, kneeling and listening to the sound of sirens approaching. The medics and emergency rescue teams would be here shortly.

But whilst they had failed to save one life, at least two bots would get to keep their lives thanks to their actions. The femme that Optronix had rescued appeared to be in a critical yet stable condition, and was still unconscious, but the bot who had been saved by Blaster seemed to be the most fortunate of the three; though he’d been badly burned, he seemed to have full functionality and had already begun to regain consciousness.

“Ugh… what happened?”

Blaster supported him with a steady hand as the bot struggled to sit up. “You’re going to be alright. A med team will be here shortly.”

“Ugh… don’t feel too good.” The rescued mech took several moments to adjust to his surroundings, briefly taking note of the other two bots but making no comment. He seemed to be desperately trying to remember something. “Ugh… the key,” he murmured, and then laid back down on the ground, dimming his optics in regret.

“Was Alpha Trion inside the museum?” Optronix, his voice filled with determination, had directed his question at the conscious survivor.

The mech lifted up his head and gazed at Optronix for a brief moment, thinking over his reply. Then he shook his head. “No.”

Optronix sighed with relief, and Blaster decided that it would be safe enough to ask him some more questions. “Listen, do you have any idea how this big fire started?”

The bot nodded weakly. “Yeah… Decepticons.”

The femme in Optronix’s arms stirred and regained consciousness. Her external sensors readjusted to her surroundings, and then she turned her head slowly around until her optics met Optronix’s. Instantly, she felt comforted. He looked down at her, his gaze locked with hers, and a new and incomprehensible feeling suddenly swept over him. “You’re going to be alright,” he reassured her. A thick silence seemed to settle upon and fill the space around the two of them, temporarily filtering out the noise of the raging firestorm in the background and the whirring engines and sirens of rescue vehicles as they arrived at the scene.

“Hey, listen, what’s your name? I’m Blaster,” the cadet asked the bot he’d rescued, attempting to dispel the feeling of despair and regret that he sensed from him.

A medical officer finally reached the three cadets and checked over the rescued bots for signs before calling for some assistance. Amidst the clamour of transforming fire engines and slamming van doors, the blue, red and white bot turned his head to look back at Blaster as he was being moved into the back of a med van. His optics flickered back to life, and he held Blaster’s gaze for a moment with intense blue optics. “I’m Orion. Orion… Pax.”

* * *

There was momentary silence inside the meeting room of the central Control Tower as the visual feed that had been sent to Soundwave the previous night from Thundercracker, right before he and Skywarp had crashed near Stanix City, finished replaying on the large monitor, for the benefit of the other Decepticons.

Thundercracker broke the silence. “Like I said, it wasn’t anything I’ve ever seen before. But that’s not all. After that thing zapped us out of the sky, things just got weirder. Tell ‘em, Sky.”

As if the two of them shared a permanent neural link, Skywarp instantly picked up where his trine mate left off. “When we came to we were approached by a bunch of mechs from Stanix City. They demanded we tell ‘em where some key was, then threatened to offline us with his cannon if we didn’t.”

“Key? What do you mean?” Starscream asked, intrigued.

Thundercracker replied, glancing at Skywarp and shrugging. “What did he call it? A key to _Vectassigma_ , or something like that.”

The room fell silent again as curious expressions were exchanged among the senior officers – except for Megatron, who briefly looked away in quiet introspection, as if he were recalling some long forgotten memory.

“Megatron, might you know what that would be?” the Air Commander asked him expectantly.

Megatron returned his gaze steadily. “The Key… to Vector Sigma,” he confirmed, and then stood up to slowly pace a few steps in contemplation. By now, every Decepticon was all audio sensors. “Vector Sigma is – or _was_ , I should say – the powerful supercomputer that granted life to the first Cybertronians. Supposedly, it was created by Primus himself, who was then brought forth into physical existence by the very thing that he had created.”

“Huh. Interesting,” Thundercracker noted.

“Could this Vector Sigma have had anything to do with the unusual seismic activity we picked up right before Stanix City was destroyed?” Scrapper asked, and all optics shifted towards him.

“Or with that giant Pit creature we saw?” Skywarp added.

“As yet, there is no conclusive evidence of either hypothesis,” Soundwave stated, and then paused before adding, “Without further information, it will be impossible to determine with any certainty.”

A few moments passed by before Starscream asked the pertinent question. “So if this supercomputer still exists, then where is it?”

Once again, they all looked to Megatron for an answer, and he took his seat again. “ _If_ it still exists… it should be located deep within Cybertron’s core. That is what the scriptures tell us.”

“The scriptures? So, no mech still functional today has ever actually seen this supercomputer?” Starscream replied with a certain amount of scepticism, but Megatron had nothing further to tell him.

“Wait an astro-second – Soundwave, how far down did you say that seismic activity beneath Stanix City originated?” Thundercracker asked, turning to the communications expert.

“Approximately seventy-five thousand astro-miles, within a five thousand mile radius,” Soundwave replied.

“Right. And how far down would you say is Cybertron’s core?” the seeker continued.

“Seventy seven thousand, eight hundred and forty-five astro-miles,” was the reply. They could all see what Thundercracker was getting at.

“Which means that the location of Cybertron’s core, where Vector Sigma is supposedly located, falls right within the range of the seismic disturbance!” Scrapper concluded excitedly.

“Correct,” Soundwave confirmed.

In that moment, the meeting room door opened and Rumble came rushing in. “Turn on the general broadcast! You’ll want to see this – Iacon’s burning!” he proclaimed. Soundwave activated the main monitor, and all heads turned towards the live feed.

_‘… further rescue teams have been despatched from the Autobase, but efforts to stop the spreading destruction have so far been unsuccessful. The exact origin and nature of the strange radiation is still unknown, though some sources believe that it was caused by Decepticon weapons. Breaking news: Autobot Command has issued a lockdown order for Iacon’s Central, East, and South-East Divisions, effective immediately, until Sector D5 is safely contained. Sentinel Prime will be making an official statement shortly. This is Arex-Eight, reporting live for the Cybertron News Network.’_

The room fell quiet as the news sank in. The raging blaze that threatened to make its way towards central Iacon continued to be broadcast on the screen. It seemed that nothing could stop it.

“Caused by Decepticon weapons? Why would they say such a thing?” Starscream uttered in disbelief.

“What the slag…” Dirge muttered.

“Some sources? Yeah, what _sources_?” Skywarp questioned indignantly.

“I’ll betcha it was those goons we encountered. They have something to do with all this – I just know it,” Thundercracker said, grimacing.

“If Sentinel Prime implicates us in his official statement, our peace treaty is essentially over,” Onslaught pointed out, clenching his fist in anger.

Megatron shook his head, determined to make sense of what was going on. “He would not want a war with us – especially while Iacon is under attack. Soundwave, transmit a message to Prime. Inform him that we had nothing to do with the current situation in Iacon. Also tell him that Vector Sigma may have been recently reactivated.” As Soundwave proceeded to contact the Iacon Command Center, Megatron observed his senior ranking Decepticons gathered around the table. “According to the scriptures, only those who are a creation of Vector Sigma can activate it directly, though only a very few who have attempted it were left unscathed,” he informed them. “If it is reactivated for selfish purposes, it may result in great harm being done to the planet. Furthermore, Vector Sigma holds the planet’s dipolar energy field in balance. Any disruptions to this field may trigger a complete reset.”

“A complete reset?” Starscream repeated in alarm.

“Yes. In order to ensure Cybertron’s renewal, following an apocalypse,” Megatron explained.

“But is there any way of stopping it?” Starscream asked. “A reset, I mean?”

Megatron met his gaze. “As far as I am aware, the Key is the only way – as long as it is used in accordance with the will of Primus.”

“Ah, I see. It’s all starting to make sense now, kind of,” Thundercracker said. “So the question remains: who were those goons that were after the Key, and what do they plan on doing with it once they have it?”

“Irrespective of their intentions, we’ve got to find _them_ before they find _it_ ,” Starscream stated decidedly.

“Chances are they already found it,” Onslaught declared as he watched the continual blaze on the monitor in careful consideration, “in Iacon.”

Megatron nodded in agreement. “It is true that if the Key still exists, it would have been located in Iacon.” He paused in thought and then turned to the blue Cassetticon, who was watching the live broadcast of the devastation on the monitor. “Rumble, can you bring up a projection of Sector D5 in central Iacon?”

“Sure thing, boss!” Rumble dashed towards the comms terminal set into the wall and hit a few buttons. As he did so, the main monitor went blank and in the center of the room, right above the table, appeared a holographic projection of the requested map. As Megatron began to study it carefully, the other Decepticons did the same.

Starscream was the first to make the connection. “The museum – of course! That must be where the Key is – or _was_ – being safeguarded.”

Megatron nodded satisfactorily. “Yes,” he agreed, then paused as he considered all the information they’d gathered so far. “If the ancient supercomputer does indeed exist and it has been reactivated after so many eons… this planet, along with each and every Cybertronian on it, may be in great peril. We must find whoever has the Key and stop him from harnessing the power of Vector Sigma, or it may be too late.”


	8. Chapter 8

When Praxus City was hit suddenly by a mysterious yet unstoppable force, no mech had seen it coming. Once the proud home of many well-to-do Autobots with its tall spires and its breathtaking, multi-layered runways, the City was transformed into a landscape of rubble and ruin in less than a few breems. There had been no warning signs given; one moment, the echos of merriment and laughter filled its many prestigious clubs and entertainment hotspots, frequented mostly by the affluent – and then the next, death and destruction had claimed victory. By the time it was over, the number of off-lined and injured far outweighed the number of those who were left unscathed. It was as if an enormous tidal wave of energy had struck and swept over the entire city, leaving nothing still standing in its wake. Praxus City would have to be completely rebuilt, from the ground up. It was nothing short of catastrophic.

Within half hour, Autobot emergency teams began to trickle into the area, called in to duty from the neighbouring suburbs of the greater region of Praxus and beyond. The main Autobot headquarters in Iacon sent what soldiers they could spare, though the majority of its resources were still occupied with the ongoing battle against an unpredictable firestorm on the home front.

The destruction was so extensive that the reporter on the scene could barely speak coherently. “What you’re seeing is coming to you live from Praxus City… oh, it’s… the complete and utter – it’s just unbelievable what’s happened to the City, but as you can see… the air is so thick with smoke and debris that it’s almost impossible to get a clear view from where I’m standing. We’re still being updated on the situation but, uh, the military has been called in, and it looks like – it’s absolutely crazy down here.” The thin-framed reporter momentarily mumbled something off camera. “Uh, and we’ll be back very shortly with a continuing coverage of this unprecedented disaster – but continue to watch as we take you now to the – to Iacon, where the Supreme Commander of the Autobot army, Sentinel Prime, is about to deliver his official statement on the current crisis.”

* * *

“Can’t we get someone else to make the official announcement? Our Autobot forces are relying on my leadership – they need me on the ground _right now_ – I simply do not have time for this!” Sentinel pushed his way through the crowds of reporters and extra security detail that followed him as he was escorted towards the communications center at the top level of the command post, Prowl and Ironhide close by his side. “And can’t we do something about these damned reporters?!”

Prowl managed to keep pace with him whilst giving orders to the security personnel under his supervision using hand gestures and nods. “I’m sorry, Prime, but the citizens need to hear from _you_ to help guide them through this.”

Sentinel grunted, but did not contest the point. Finally arriving at comms he strode into the large room as the doors slid open, and was ushered towards a makeshift platform that had been set up in the middle of the room, from where his message would be broadcast. Prowl moved across to one of the com stations while Ironhide stood to one side, acting as a personal bodyguard. As the doors sealed closed again, a couple of security bots remained by the entrance. An assistant attempted to guide the Prime into a chair but was brushed aside in frustration. “Can we just get this over with?”

The camera operator nodded to let him know he could begin. “Okay, sir… you’re on.”

Clearing his vocalizer, Sentinel stared directly into the camera lens. “As your Supreme Commander and Prime, I have a duty to – ugh, no. Start again. This is Sentinel Prime with an urgent message for all the citizens of Cybertron, both Autobots and Destrons alike. As many of you have become aware by now, Cybertron is under attack. First Stanix City, then Iacon, and now Praxus City; it seems that we are dealing with an unknown enemy who is both merciless and extremely powerful. My military teams and special ops units have been deployed, so rest assured that we are doing everything we can to stop this menace. The situation in Iacon so far remains critical as it continues to burn; henceforth, a lockdown order has been issued for most of the City. Those residing within the containment zones must remain in their dwellings until the situation has been brought under control, or until further notice. We at Autobot Command are doing everything we possibly can to find and stop whoever is responsible for these atrocities. Thus far, we have reason to believe that–”

Sentinel's speech was interrupted when Prowl turned abruptly from his console and rushed over to the platform. “Prime!” The Autobot in charge of security motioned for the camera operator to stop the broadcast, and then spoke in confidence with the Prime. “We’ve just received word from our seismological team in Stanix. I think it’s important that you hear it right away.”

But rather than regarding the distraction as a nuisance, Sentinel seemed to welcome it. He gave Prowl a nod in acknowledgment and then rose from his chair before immediately heading towards the doors. “Let’s discuss it somewhere a little more private, shall we?”

As the two of them departed the communications center, closely followed by Ironhide and the security contingent, the news crew and reporters were left scratching their helms and calling out after him.

“Sir?! Sir, wait – what about the announcement?!”

* * *

Prowl and Ironhide followed Sentinel Prime into his personal quarters while the security detail waited just outside. The door closed behind them, and the Autobot leader took a seat in the chair behind his desk. He leaned back relieved, glad to have gotten away from the mayhem of news reporters and the angry mob of civilians demanding answers, even if it would only be for a short while.

“What in the Pits is going on out there? First it’s Stanix, then Iacon, and now Praxus,” Ironhide said, his face set into a regretful scowl. “What’s next?”

Prowl took in a deep cycle of air, anxious yet still able to keep his emotions in check. Despite his unwillingness to share his personal story, it was evident that something about this crisis had deeply affected him. “Sir, our geological team has discovered that the extensive system of tunnels beneath Stanix City is not inert, as previously believed, but in fact forms a deep network of interconnecting streams of acid waste.” He paused, gauging Sentinel’s reaction to see whether he knew where this was going. “The entire sub-surface region is an enormous acid depository that extends several miles below ground. Prime, the seismic disturbance we detected last night seems to have caused the entire tunnel system to weaken. It’s only a matter of time before–”

Sentinel raised his hand, indicating for him to stop speaking. “Let me guess – the entire thing will collapse at any moment?”

Prowl did not reply, but it was obvious that the seriousness of the imminent disaster weighed heavily upon him.

“What will happen when it collapses?” Ironhide queried, fearful of the answer but needing to know.

“The immediate extent of the damage that would result is largely unknown, but our best estimates would suggest that the entire region of Stanix, as well as its neighbouring regions, will be turned into wasteland. But that’s not the worst of it. Due to the close proximity to the core, the resulting shockwaves from the collapse of the tunnel network could cause the planet to become unstable along the equatorial line, which could trigger a series of unprecedented disasters. The likely result would be the destruction of several of Cybertron’s major cities,” Prowl explained, finishing in a barely audible voice.

“What?” Sentinel snapped. His reaction was one of total shock and disbelief; as much as he was an egomaniacal and obdurate Prime, he did not want to see his home planet annihilated.

Prowl looked him in the optics, trying to hold himself together as best he could though he was fast losing the battle. “The tunnels have already started to collapse. If something isn’t done soon…”

“No…” Ironhide drawled; he could barely believe what he was hearing. He shook his head in grief. “This can’t be happening.”

Prowl’s private com line activated, and his attention was diverted to a priority alert from Blurr, an inexperienced Autobot from out of state who had been temporarily reassigned to the communications center in Iacon due to the emergency deployment of most of the regulars. “Prime, we’ve just received a message from the Decepticons,” Prowl relayed.

“The Decepticons?” Sentinel exhaled sharply in exasperation, his frustration over the current crisis wanting to lay the blame on the intractable Destron faction. “What do they want?”

“Go ahead, Blurr,” Prowl said, switching his private com over to general audio.

“TheDeceptionssaytheirnottoblameforthesituationinIaconsirtheyalsosaidsomethingaboutaVector sigmabeingreactivatedrecently.” Over the open comms channel, Blurr stopped talking almost as quickly as he’d begun.

“What in the name of Nova Prime is he saying?” Ironhide admonished the fast-talking Autobot. “Can’t you speak a little slower?”

An unfettered apology came over the com. “I’m sorrysorrysosorry, sir, I talkfastwhen I’m alittlenervous, and–” Blurr said with a concerted effort to slow his speech right down.

“What did he say about Vector Sigma?” Sentinel Prime demanded, interjecting as he got up to move closer to Prowl.

Quiet filled the room as the three of them waited for the Autobot’s neurotic voice to respond to the Prime over the com. “Vectorsigma? Ohyeah – Vectorsigma… uh, Vectorsigma’s been reactivated?”

Sentinel’s face appeared to turn ashen, as if all the energon had suddenly been drained from him.

“What does that mean? Prime?” Prowl’s confusion and distress turned into apprehension as uncertainty over the Decepticons’ odd message took hold of his processor.

But Sentinel turned his gaze away, refusing to speak for a long moment. Involving the Decepticons in any official capacity needed to be handled with the utmost care, particularly when the High Council was breathing down his neck about them. Finally he turned back to face his two officers. “Have my private shuttle ready,” he ordered, as he started for the door.

“What about the Dec–”

“Do _not_ take any action without my explicit permission!” he barked as he left his quarters, leaving a puzzled Prowl in his wake.

* * *

After the law enforcement officers, medical teams and firefighters had arrived in Sector D5 to secure and search the area, Optronix, Hot Rod and Blaster were taken to the Iacon Command Center nearby, where they’d been questioned officially and made to give their accounts of what they’d witnessed, before finally being escorted back to the War Academy, much to the relief of their class mates.

When news of the ominous blaze that was destroying a nearby sector had reached the audio sensors of the cadets at the Academy, they’d all gathered inside the large Assembly Hall, where they continued to watch the live coverage on the broadcasts while waiting out the lockdown.

Optronix caught sight of Alpha Trion in their midst, who strode towards him with welcoming arms, most grateful that he and his two companions had been returned safe and sound. “Optronix! Oh, thank Primus that you are all safe!”

“Yeah, what were you thinking going out there like that? You could have all gotten yourselves off-lined!” their class mate Swerve admonished, as several others came over to crowd around the three cadets.

“What’s the bet it was all Hot Shot’s dumb idea?” taunted Sureshot, smirking at Hot Rod.

“How bad is it out there?” Huffer asked, more curious than concerned.

“Did you get apprehended?” inquired Gears.

Powerflash, with arms crossed, sneered at them. “They should all get booted out of the Academy for their little stunt.”

However, Hot Rod was not in the mood for engaging in a verbal sparring match with anyone, or answering any of their questions. After what he’d experienced that morning, he wanted to be left alone. The death of the mech that he’d attempted to rescue from the blaze was more than he wanted to think about right now.

Optronix, too, was not acting like his usual self – he remained quiet and withdrawn, as if he were caught up in some other world and was struggling to return to Cybertron. Even Alpha Trion could tell that something about him had changed.

The elder pulled him aside for a private word, genuinely concerned. “Optronix… I learned of the attack on the museum from the broadcast. They say that the Key to Vector Sigma was stolen by Decepticons,” he said with much regret. “If it is true, it is most unfortunate.”

“Yes, Alpha Trion. But why would they have done this?” Optronix said after a pause. His voice was cold and stern. “ _How_ could they have done this?”

“Those are good questions, Optronix… and ones that I cannot answer, I’m afraid,” his guardian replied, shaking his head sadly.


	9. Chapter 9

Atop a tower in the City of Tyger Pax, Thunderwing held the precious Key close to his chest, looking out towards the smouldering Praxus City. Far below, the main canal that extended north from the Mithril Sea and separated the regions of Praxus and Tyger Pax shimmered golden-blue.

Truth be told, he’d had no idea just how powerful the Key in his possession actually was until he’d unleashed it upon Praxus City, as a test of its full power. With the help of the fiery dragon, which he’d named “Megadeath”, he could summon the power of the ancient supercomputer to bring forth a destructive force that had no equal. He had become all powerful. He had become a god, just like Primus.

The total collapse of the Stanix tunnel system, a process that had already begun, would trigger the destabilization of the core, causing the planet’s outer layer to break apart and most inhabitable cities to crumble, and then the Reset would occur. He would gather any survivors and lead them into a new era – one that would be free of corruption or iniquity – and together they would rebuild Cybertron into a magnificent, prosperous world, repopulated by Vector Sigma and ruled by a new generation of Primes, he being the first.

There was just one more thing that he needed to do now. In order to secure his rightful place as the Prime ruler of the New World he needed a safe place to wait out the Reset, somewhere that would guarantee his safety from the impending upheavals, and there was only one place where he could do this: the chamber that housed Vector Sigma. However, to return there he would no longer be able to utilize the same route that Mordron had shown him beneath the Stanix tunnels, as the entire system was due to collapse at any moment. There existed only two other access points to Vector Sigma that Master had told him about, although one of them – directly beneath the Iacon Pavilions, in Autobot Council territory – had been destroyed long ago and was inaccessible. The last remaining one was located beneath the Darkmount fortress in Polyhex.

He looked away from the view of the once-beautiful Praxis City in the distance and turned briefly to his companions. “We must journey to Vector Sigma. Follow me,” he told them, and then jumped down from the tower with a powerful leap.

“What? Hey, wait for us!” Ruckus called out after him, leaping down after their leader along with Crankcase and Windsweeper.

* * *

Atop the West Tower in Kolkular, Thundercracker inspected the six seekers standing at attention in a line before him, offering each only a brief glance as he paced the length of the line. The first two seekers were new recruits, and grateful that they’d just been selected to participate in their very first real assignment and eager to prove their worth; Ion Storm was a predominantly blue seeker with a special knack for generating electromagnetic pulses; and Nova Storm was an all-yellow seeker who possessed superior armor strength. They would form a trio with the bright green-colored Acid Storm, who had joined the Decepticons soon after they were formed; eager to begin his assignment with his new wing mates, he stood next in line.

After Acid Storm there stood Bitstream and Hotlink, who formed a trio with their leader Sunstorm; these three seekers, as with Acid Storm, had also joined the Decepticons when the group was first formed. Thundercracker stopped in front of Hotlink. “Too bad Sunstorm couldn’t join you today,” he commented, making note of the absentee. “I understand he’s still in recovery.”

“Yes, sir,” the purple and black flyer replied, and Thundercracker moved down the line to stand before Bitstream, who sported a similar color scheme to his own only with more blue.

“So for today, you’ll be joined by your temporary replacement.” Thundercracker turned to the last seeker in line, pausing to appraise him, and then gave him a look as if to say, ‘ _Don’t frag this up.’_ “Nacelle.”

Nacelle saluted his superior with the awkwardness of an unpopular recruit who had miraculously been given a second chance. “Sir!”

“At ease, Nacelle,” Thundercracker said to him, and then took a step back. “Acid Storm and Bitstream; you’ll both be in charge of your respective trines for this assignment. I gather that you’ve all been briefed?” He waited for the expected replies and got them.

“Yes, sir,” the two team leaders said in unison.

“Good. Acid Storm, your team will begin searching over Stanix, and Bitstream your team will head out to Darkmount and start there. Keep your comms open, and if any of you manage to locate the targets, contact the base. Transform and take off.”

He watched the six of them transform into their jet modes and fly off and then did the same, taking to the air to join his own team mates; together they’d set course for Iacon, where they would begin their own search, while Dirge, Ramjet and Thrust would cover Praxus.

Beginning with the most likely places, the four teams of Decepticon flyers were to search out and attempt to intercept the mechs from Stanix City who had sought the Key to Vector Sigma – the same ones he and Skywarp had encountered the night before. Feeling nothing but pride for the Decepticons and his place among them, Thundercracker was more than confident that they would soon be tracked down.

* * *

Located just north of the High Council Pavilions, the high-rise plateau of Iacon’s Central Spaceport harboured Sentinel’s private cruiser – a sleek, dark grey and blue spacecraft designated _The Dark Knight_.

Once aboard, Sentinel took his place in the commander’s seat while Prowl took the pilot’s chair, but it wasn’t until they had been cleared by the control tower and had cruised well past the Pavilions that Sentinel was finally ready to let his advisor know of his intentions.

“I have been directed to declare the Decepticons a threat to the Cybertronian Empire,” Sentinel stated, his voice more subdued than usual. “And, as Prime Commander of the Cybertronian Empire, it is my duty to neutralize any and all threats to its existence.”

Sentinel’s unexpected bombshell caught Prowl off-guard, who hesitated in his response. “Surely… the Council does not expect us to apprehend them all while our resources are already–”

“Do you not see that the only thing the Council cares about is maintaining supreme control, no matter the cost?” Sentinel snapped, though he was frustrated not so much at Prowl but with the current situation. “If it is true that Vector Sigma has been activated, then we have a far more urgent matter to concern ourselves with than the threat presented by a rebellious bunch of Destrons who dare challenge the Council’s authority. Of course, you and I both know that it would be ludicrous to confront the Decepticons at a time like this, but try getting the Council to see reason!”

When Sentinel spoke no further for a long moment, Prowl knew that there was more he wanted to say. “Prime, I still don’t understand…” he ventured. “Why the cruiser? And where are we going?”

“‘ _We_ ’ are not going anywhere. You must return immediately to the command post to oversee the rescue efforts in Iacon,” the Prime corrected him, looking out the cockpit’s front view screen and navigating back towards central Iacon. The Prime was not acting like his usual self at all. Clearly, Prowl was witnessing a completely different side to him, though he wasn’t sure whether this aspect was good conscience, or reckless defiance.

“Yes, sir,” was Prowl’s only reply.

* * *

Once _The Last Knight_ had touched down on one of the landing pads above the Command Center, Sentinel turned to his advisor. “You may get off now. I must continue alone.”

“Prime, at least allow me to–” However, even before he’d managed to utter a single word of protest, Prowl knew that it was a futile exercise.

“Please, just do as I say!” Sentinel rebuked, cutting him off, and so Prowl had no choice but to disembark from the shuttle and return to his regular post. “Believe me; it will be far better for you in the long run if you do not accompany me this time.”

The black and white Autobot did as he was asked without any further objections, and once Sentinel was alone he lifted his cruiser back up into the air, switching over to stealth mode.

“Computer, reset the cruiser’s communications security clearance to enable full encryption and disengage all recording devices: Defense Emergency Condition Alpha, authorization confirm: Sentinel Prime,” he ordered, invoking the highest communications clearance level known to Autobot Command – an action that was only ever taken during the direst of circumstances.

Then, once the onboard computer had confirmed his request, he accelerated on a course for Kaon, via a route over Tyrest.

* * *

Nacelle tried to maintain close formation with Bitstream and Hotlink, two far more experienced seekers than himself, but as the brand new recruit out on his first assignment he simply couldn’t keep up with them. He felt like a failure who didn’t deserve to be there, regardless of the kindness and encouragement that Megatron had recently shown him. And Thundercracker, for that matter.

“Remember to be more like yourself, Nacelle – just be yourself and you’ll be fine,” he reminded himself. “Hey, I’m not such a bad guy. I’m just underappreciated, that’s all. I have uncharted talents, you know. I have uncharted tal–”

“Who are you talking to?” Bitstream’s voice came over the radio.

Oh, slag! He thought he’d had his personal transmitter switched off. Oops. “Uh, nobody?” he replied nervously. He tried changing the topic. “Erm, you know, Polyhex is really pretty this time of day.”

Silence from both his wing mates. A long, deafening silence. Then, changing topic, Bitstream proceeded to issue his next instructions to his team. “We’re approaching Darkmount. Prepare to land.”

The Darkmount fortress came into clear view below. Nacelle kept up with his team mates until all three landed outside the front of the fortress, next to the only bridge that allowed access to it by road. Despite its crumbling façade, the ancient castle loomed before them, a magnificent monument to days gone by.

Bitstream turned to his two trine mates. “I’m going to circle around to the left. Hotlink, you go around the other side and keep an optic out. Let’s make sure our targets aren’t anywhere close by. If they make their way into this fortress, it’ll be much more difficult to track ‘em down.” Hotlink nodded. “Oh, and Nacelle, you can stay here and watch the entrance. Remember, just like Thundercracker said: if you see any sign of our targets, contact the base.”

The two more worthy seekers took off into the air, leaving Nacelle on the ground. “Okay, sure thing. I’ll – I’ll just wait right here!” Nacelle called out after them as he watched his wing mates fly further away until they were nothing but mere specks in the distance. He slumped his shoulders and sighed.

After Lord Straxus’ defeat, Darkmount castle had been thoroughly searched from top to bottom and cleaned out by the Autobots. They had seized anything of value and left, leaving the place abandoned, and other than the occasional squatter or drifter, the castle remained vacant. It would make the perfect hideout for anyone wanting to lay low for a little while. Of course, there was no telling who had made this castle their home since it had been vacated, or what now lurked inside its gloomy walls.

Nacelle may have been a talentless, underappreciated seeker, but one thing that he did have going for him was his absolute love of mysteries – of exploring unknown frontiers and uncovering long-held secrets. And for Nacelle, at least, the hidden and mysterious chambers and dungeons that waited to be discovered inside Darkmount fortress represented just such an unknown frontier.

After debating fervently with himself for a good klik or two, Nacelle was convinced that if he was really quick – he’d only take a minute (or two, tops) – he could take a quick peek inside and then be back before his two wing mates returned. He simply couldn’t help himself, and so he began to walk along the bridge that led directly to Darkmount’s grand entrance, completely unaware of what lay ahead for him.

* * *

When the deep chasm of the Sonic Canyons came into view – a wide and bottomless shaft that descended into the obscurity of the planetary depths far below – Sentinel slowed his cruiser’s speed right down until he was hovering above Kaon’s border. He then input new information into the navigational console and the ship began to descend, moving quietly over Kaon’s outer sectors until it stopped above a nondescript lane that was built up on both sides with tall dwellings. The long, narrow road ran through the backwoods of Kaon and abutted a large scrap yard. Touching down in a small clearing nearby, the lane helped to conceal the ship from any prying optics. The surrounding neighbourhood looked neglected and run-down – just the kind of place where no mech would ever think to look for an Autobot Prime.

Sentinel hit a few buttons on his console and initiated an encrypted com-link request on the narrow frequency band that he knew the Decepticons operated on.


	10. Chapter 10

The trio of Decepticon coneheads had circled high above the perimeter of the remains of Praxus City, yet had been unable to sight anything below the billowing smoke that covered almost the entire region. Other than the occasional refugee who still sought shelter, there was hardly a single mech to be seen roaming its ash-covered streets; most of the city’s inhabitants had evacuated to the neighbouring region of Tyger Pax.

Dirge was about to call off his team’s search of the area when a group of four mechs crossing the region’s southern border far below caught his optic; they were moving fast, and if he’d been looking in the opposite direction just one astro-second earlier he would have missed them. Switching to telescopic view and pitching downwards to track them, he was able to pick up enough detail to match the descriptions of the targets provided by Thundercracker and Skywarp. In addition, he could see that the leader of the pack was holding some sort of golden object in his hand, and the energy readings coming from them were highly unusual. He opened a multi-channel com to simultaneously let the other search teams know what he’d found, as well as to keep Kolkular base updated on the situation. “I think I’ve spotted them. They appear to be moving south-west. Bitstream, stay on alert.” Then he regrouped with his team mates, Ramjet and Thrust, and began to pursue the targets.

* * *

Frenzy was actively monitoring communications when he received the encrypted message request. Without delay, he left his post and raced to the control room across the hall to inform Megatron and Soundwave.

“Do you know who is sending it?” the Decepticon leader asked, briskly walking alongside the smaller Cassetticon as they headed back to the communications room, Soundwave also joining them.

“No, but it must be from an Autobot because it’s encrypted with an Autobot signature,” Frenzy suggested, curious.

“Hm, an Autobot?” Megatron approached Frenzy’s station and studied the transmission request on the display whilst Soundwave proceeded to decipher the incoming data. “Soundwave, can you decrypt it?”

The communications expert proceeded to examine message, but after a few seconds he turned away from the terminal to face Megatron. “The decryption algorithm requires a specific answer to unlock,” he stated uncertainly.

“A specific answer? To what?”

Soundwave hit a button on the terminal, and a short phrase was displayed on the monitor. “‘ _The Primax Paradox_ ,’” he read back.

“The Primax Paradox? What’s that mean?” Frenzy asked, puzzled, but Megatron was too focused on the riddle to acknowledge him.

“The Primax Paradox,” he repeated, speaking his thoughts aloud. “Yes, of course. Sentinel Prime is the only Autobot who would have knowledge of it. It seems that he wishes to ensure this message is only received by the one who solved the Primax Paradox, all those vorns ago,” he reminisced.

The red and black Cassetticon scratched his helm. “Erm, Megatron?”

“Hm?” Megatron’s attention snapped back to the present. Frenzy and Soundwave were watching him, waiting expectantly for a response. “Ah. The answer is ‘Axiom Nexus’, Soundwave. I’ll explain later,” he replied. Soundwave input the answer Megatron had given him, and was able to use the decryption algorithm to establish a secure channel. A live feed of Sentinel Prime instantly appeared on the monitor, and he did not beat around the botani-bush this time.

“Megatron, I do not have much time. The automated surveillance protocols will pick up my energy signature within a few short breems, so listen carefully.” Sentinel’s grimacing face filled the entire screen as he leaned in closer towards his transducer. “I have been directed by the Powers That Be to disband your Decepticons and bring you in to be interrogated by the Council for your actions during the energy crisis – by force if necessary.” He paused with a heavy sigh, as if having second thoughts about whether or not he was doing the right thing by contacting Megatron in this way.

For Megatron, one thing was certain; Sentinel’s behaviour was extremely unexpected, and entirely out of the ordinary. If he wanted to put an end to the Decepticons, wouldn’t it have been better for the Autobots to simply send in their army without any forewarning given? “If this is so, then why would you tell me?” Megatron questioned doubtfully. It earned him an instant, impatient response.

“Just listen! The last existing Key to Vector Sigma was stolen when Iacon was attacked. Now if, as you say, Vector Sigma has been reactivated, in the wrong hands it could be disastrous. The recent attack on Iacon as well as Praxus will seem like nothing compared to the catastrophe that will befall this planet if we don’t stop what is about to happen.” He paused for a brief moment as he collected his thoughts. “For all of Cybertron’s sake, you _must_ help me take back the Key. I think you know why.”

Indeed; the Key was the only way they would be able to control Vector Sigma and prevent the supercomputer from being used for nefarious purposes, short of resetting it – which would be far more difficult to accomplish. Megatron inhaled deeply as he considered the situation and their options. No matter how many times he analysed all probabilities, or evaluated every conceivable scenario and its outcome, he could not find any reason to dispute the Prime’s intentions or his justification for urgency. He appeared to be telling the truth. “What if the Council attempts to interfere–” Megatron said at last, but was quickly cut off by the Prime.

“I will personally make sure that you and your Decepticons are left alone – at least until this crisis is over. That’s all I can promise you, for now, but I want you to know that I do not see optic-to-optic with the Elders on this matter,” Sentinel replied. He seemed to consider something more, then, “I would not normally ask this of you, Megatron, but I believe the circumstances call for it. We must speak in person… off the record, you understand?”

Megatron exchanged glances with Soundwave before turning back to the screen. “I can send someone for you shortly,” he offered.

“Good. I’m transmitting my co-ordinates to you now,” the Prime said and then, without warning, the link was disconnected. Soundwave gave Megatron a small nod to let him know the co-ordinates had been received.

“Whoa. What was that all about?” Frenzy asked in the ensuing silence.

“I’m not entirely sure,” the Decepticon leader replied, then turned to his communications officer. “Soundwave, update Starscream on the situation, and tell Astrotrain that he’ll be rendezvousing for an impromptu pick up.”

* * *

Approximately halfway over the long stretch of Kalis’ south-western border, Dirge’s aerial team lost sight of the targets. The coneheads had managed to get close enough behind them a few times in jet mode, but every time they’d tried to intercept the fugitives from Stanix, an arsenal of missiles and grenades would be lobbed their way in an effort to stop themfrom intercepting. While the thieves were not able to lose the jets, they did manage to slow them down. That’s when they suddenly veered away from the surface and dropped down into a shaft, disappearing from view.

“Where are they going?” Thrust asked his team mates over the radio.

“Looks like the targets are going to enter into Polyhex via the subway,” Dirge said into the open comms, updating command trine on the situation at the same time. “Should we follow them down?”

“Negative,” Thundercracker’s voice answered him. “Continue on to Polyhex and meet up with Bitstream. If you stay in the air, you should arrive ahead of the targets. Whatever you do, _don’t_ let ‘em get into Darkmount. My team’s heading there now to join you.”

“Understood,” Dirge replied and then, together with Ramjet and Thrust, he activated his boosters and flew on at full speed towards Polyhex.

* * *

After altering course and circling away from Iacon, the command trine headed south en route to Polyhex. They flew in typical vee formation with perfectly timed and well-practiced synchronicity, maintaining cruising altitude. Starscream, in the leader position, had just received word from Soundwave regarding Sentinel Prime’s unusual request, and had fallen silent.

“You’re awful quiet all of a sudden,” his wing mate, Skywarp, pointed out. “What gives?”

“Come on, you can tell us,” Thundercracker added. “No, wait; let me guess – it’s got something to do with Sentinel Prime, am I right?”

They managed to get a response from him; a sigh, followed by an indiscernible muttering and, “I just don’t trust him, that’s all.”

“Heh. Well… after all the slag he’s pulled over the past stellar cycle, it’s understandable,” Thundercracker replied, and then thought of the new seeker team that had been assigned to search over Stanix; as per standard protocol, they had failed to request confirmation of a change of assignment when Dirge had informed them all that the search targets had been located. He made a mental note to remind them of it later, during the next practice drill. “Acid Storm, how’s your team doing?”

The answer he received was anything but standard protocol. “What in the fraggin’ Pit…? Holy _slag_!”

* * *

Darkmount fortress was enormous. Not to mention creepy-looking. Looming above him, cold and unwelcoming, Nacelle had crossed the connecting bridge and now stood before the grand arch entrance. The doors were sealed closed, he noticed with dismay, and he had no idea how to get inside. He let out a long, heavy sigh. By the time he found a way in, his wing mates would have realized he wasn’t at his post. Not worth the effort, after all. Did he seriously think it was going to be that easy, anyway? “Of course not! Sheesh. You’re an idiot, Nacelle. A real idiot,” he mumbled to himself, shaking his head. 

“Hey, Dreadwind – looks like we found ourselves a fresh one!”

Nacelle spun around to find himself face-to-face with two well-equipped mechs – fighter jet alts, by the look of them. They stood facing him with weapons pointed; one held dual missile launchers and the other wielded a pair of electro-blasters. Oh, slag, how long had they been standing there?

“Oh, um, hi, guys,” Nacelle greeted them, feeling mightily self-conscious. “Uh, wow, is this your castle? It’s a really nice castle, but ah, to be honest it’s not my style. So, I guess I’ll be leaving, then,” he said in the most nonchalant manner he could manage, and made to walk around them (to get back to his post – the one that he should never have left), but was stopped short by a missile launcher shoved in his face. His hands shot straight up in a gesture of surrender. “Please, don’t shoot?”

The two hostile jets were eyeing him as though he was about to be the first meal they’d had in over a vorn. Sporting complementary color schemes – one blue and grey with purple wings, and the other purple and grey with blue wings – they both seemed to be equally enjoying his reaction.

“Not so fast,” said the one with the blue wings and the missile launchers. “Tell us how to get inside this fortress, and we won’t feed you to the Sharkticons.”

Nacelle gasped. Thundercracker was gonna be pissed. He’d be sent home for sure now – that is, if he survived the Sharkticons.

Then, before Nacelle could go into full panic mode, the missile-launcher-wielding jet suddenly powered down his heavy armaments and put them away. His partner followed suit. “Aw, we’re just pulling your chain. You should have seen the look on your face, though,” he said to a cautiously relieved Nacelle. “Right, Darkwing?”

“Yeah; it was priceless,” agreed Darkwing.

But then Dreadwind pulled out a small scrambler gun and shot Nacelle in the back of the neck without warning. “Sorry ‘bout that – just a precaution,” he said, exchanging glances with Darkwing before the two of them retreated down one of the long, narrow passages that ran along the outside of the stone wall perimeter of the fortress, until they had disappeared out of sight.

Nacelle felt as though his circuits had just been set alight. He struggled to remain standing, glancing back at the bridge and wondered whether he’d make it back to his post before he lost consciousness. “Oh, slag.”

He was only able to take another step before he fell in a heap, passed out.

**Author's Note:**

> End of Episode 6: _The Journey into Vector Sigma Part 1_.
> 
> Don't miss Episode 7: _The Journey into Vector Sigma Part 2_ , as the Heroic Decepticons are about to embark upon a journey they'll never forget.


End file.
